


Comfort

by Never_x_Better



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Addiction, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Slash, Season 5 setting, Slow Build, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:37:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 181,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_x_Better/pseuds/Never_x_Better
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's being tormented by Lucifer and Castiel just wants to help him. Nightmares, blood addiction, hallucinations, and fluff ends up leading the two friends down an interesting path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Saw a headcanon thing on tumblr and it inspired me to write this.

                                        

It was an offhanded comment from Sam which first rose Castiel's suspicions. To anyone else it may have seemed innocent enough but if he had learnt one thing about the younger Winchester it was that things were rarely that simple.

It didn't take long for him to figure it out, every time he visited the brothers, Sam looked more and more tired. It wasn't unusual to see them sipping on cups of coffee but Sam began to stink of the stuff. His eyes seemed permanently heavy and bloodshot, he was getting into arguments with Dean about his performance while hunting, he was even forgetting the most straightforward of things. At times when Castiel visited them, he would often see Sam cradling his head in his hands when he thought Dean wasn't watching.  
During one particular visit, he was almost falling asleep on his laptop as he typed away, his head rolling every time he blinked. Castiel had attempted to excuse himself, to allow them to rest, only for Dean to claim they had not long woken up and had no need for any more sleep.

That may have been true for Dean, but as Castiel eyed Sam carefully, he highly doubted the same could be said for his brother.

\--------

"Castiel?"

Sam had barely whispered one night, just before he departed. Dean had already left for the nearest bar at this point and he was just about to fly off too when the soft sound reached his ears. It was so quiet, if he hadn't have been an angel he would probably have missed it.

"Yes?" He responded, turning his attention away from the heavens and back to the young man who so rarely asked anything of him.

"Is there a way... Is there a way to stop angels entering your dreams?" He questioned reluctantly, his head hung as he sat on the corner of their latest motel's mattress.  
Just like that, Castiel suddenly understood the last few weeks for what they were. Understood why he always seemed to be fighting off sleep when he so clearly needed the rest. He was embarrassed to admit he hadn't even thought of it before.

Lucifer.

"No, not that I am aware. It's your mind Sam, all I can suggest is for you to try and take control. Force him out."

Sam had nodded, chest fallen, before he snapped on this fake, reassuring smile as he looked up at the angel.

"Okay, well it's nothing I can't handle anyway... don't worry about it... thanks."

Just who he was trying to convince with that, Castiel was not sure but he took that to be his dismissal and left.

\-------------------  
Try as he might, he could not get Sam out of his head for the following days, even when dealing with the panic in heaven he could not stop thinking about their conversation.

Three days later and he found himself being drawn to the Winchesters room. As expected Dean was fast asleep, snoring away. One look towards Sam, showed he too was finally resting but it hardly looked like the peaceful one he needed.

The covers were screwed up tightly under his fists, he was hunched in on himself, tossing his head, his eyes squeezed so tightly together in distress that Castiel worried he was going to end up marking himself.

He was tempted to reach out with his grace to try and settle him, but against an archangel it would do little to help and Sam had had so much forced into his body without consent before, adding something else just seemed wrong somehow.

No matter how pure his intentions were.

He thought about waking him, to free him from whatever nightmare Lucifer was playing to him, but his body needed the sleep. He knew enough from watching him the last few visits to predict he wouldn't attempt to sleep again tonight if he disrupted him.

Not knowing how on earth to help, Castiel simply stood and watched, praying the angel would get bored soon and leave him be.

\---------------------------

"What are you watching?" Castiel asked, his head tilted as he took in the scene currently playing on the TV. There was far too much clothing involved for it to be one of Dean's usual programs.

Dean almost jumped a mile when the angel appeared beside him, clutching at his chest as he lunged off the bed in surprise.

"Dude what have I told you, learn to knock."

Castiel did not bother to dignify that with a response, just continued to study the film in front of him. A woman was being held, pulled into someone's side as they sat on a sofa, circles being rubbed on her back.

"What are they doing?" He did not recognise the gesture. When a human was upset, from what he had seen, they were hugged, or punched lightly in the arm and told to get other it, in Dean's case.

"Comforting each other... you know... 'There, there it's okay'?"

Castiel did not know. Nor did he understand why Dean was suddenly patting his shoulder.

"How is that meant to help?"

"It just does okay. It's a human thing. When someone you care about is hurting, people find it... reassuring. Soothing, whatever you want to call it." Dean replied. Reaching up, he pressed a button just below the screen and darkness descended, cutting the picture off completely. "Just for the record I wasn't watching a soap, capiche?"

He did not capiche. Admittedly there were certainly no soap bars in the room which Castiel could see.

But it seemed a very odd statement to point out.

\-------------------------------

Castiel was somewhere in Utah the next night when he heard it, a desperate plea for someone to make it stop. It wasn't addressed to him, to be honest it could barely be considered a prayer, but he was so attuned to Sam he picked up on it in a heartbeat. His wings were unbound in less than a second and he took flight before they were fully erect.

He landed in the motel between the two beds before the 'please' had even finished and Castiel had to wonder, just how bad the torment was for him to be able to pray in his sleep.  
He wasn't entirely sure what he was planning to do now he was there, he just knew that if Sam wasn't going to ask for help, then he had to be the one to give it.

Once again Sam was on his stomach, twisted at a weird angle so his knees could be pulled in on himself. His face was buried into the pillows, if his body temperature was anything to go by, the sheets had long ago been thrown to the floor. Castiel could just about make out one half of his face and just the sight of it gave the angel the strangest feeling in his chest.

No one deserved this.

Least of all Sam, who seemed determined to suffer in silence.

Perching himself awkwardly on the edge of Sam's mattress, Castiel just watched him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. He couldn't understand why he wouldn't tell Dean about this, why he was so set on enduring this alone that even in his sleep, his mind prevented him from crying out loud.

He knew Dean didn't always take things well, but from what he had seen, he always tried to be there for his brother as best he could. He would want to know about this. He would want to be told.

Yet even with this knowledge, Castiel made no move to enlighten the older Winchester. It wasn't his place to interfere with the affairs of his charges.

Even if that was exactly what he was doing by even being there.

Glancing towards the motel's TV screen, barely visible in the darkened night and then to lump that he knew to be Dean, in the next bed, Castiel came to a decision.

Slowly reaching out, he placed the palm of his vessel's hand on the top part of Sam's back and gently patted twice, just like Dean and that 'soap' had shown him. The fact that move alone was not enough to wake a skilled hunter like Sam, caused his concern to deepen.

The move had no effect on the boy at all and Castiel had to wonder if he was somehow doing it wrong.

Sam's grip turned deadly on the old mattress and if his brain would allow him to make a noise, Castiel was sure he would be whimpering by now.

He tapped him again uncomfortably, using not even a tenth of his vessels strength, up until that point, he had been unaware he'd even possessed the ability to be that gentle. But he felt it was necessary now. He did not want to wake him, just offer some comfort.

"It's okay. Sam." He whispered into the night, wondering if words would help too. Again, if it did, Sam showed no visible signs of this. Instead his mouth opened and he pushed his head into the pillow, as if he was trying to muffle a non-existent scream.

This was ridiculous, he was an Angel, a worrier, a tornado in a tea cup. He was not designed to do this.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to leave.

Of all the things he had done in all the millennium's he had been alive, this one somehow felt like it was the most important.

Maybe he had to be closer?

Scooting slightly towards Sam, Castiel leaned back against the wall and turned so his body was no longer perched but resting as a human did when they were sat up in bed. It felt weird to have his legs straight when he was in this position. He was unsure if they had been like this before- at least he knew they hadn't since he had taken Jimmy's body as his own. It was surprisingly stiff, his calves did not seem to want his legs the way they were, they were tight, apparently desiring a slight bend. Castiel ignored this.

Uneasily he placed his arm which was closest to Sam on his back again, patting it, repetitively this time. Rubbing a small circle along his shoulder blade between every few taps.

"He's not here Sam, whatever you're seeing is not real."

When Sam showed no signs of calming, Castiel repeated the statement again.

Over and over.

His voice kept low so he didn't cause Dean to awaken. He did not want to have to explain this.

Oh if the other angels could see him now.

Half a human hour after he started, he realized something. Sam had stopped moving, he was no longer twisting in his sleep, his face no longer screwed up as if he was in pain, but relaxed, much like Dean's.

Castiel felt a tug at the corner of his lips as he stared down at the sleeping form.

Well he might have been a poor excuse for an angel, but at least he was able to get something right.

He was gone before either of the Winchesters began to wake.

\----------------------------------------

This carried on for about two weeks. Cas would hear Sam's nightmares getting out of hand, hear him begging Lucifer to leave him alone and then he would go to him. He would sit all night, patting his shoulder and telling him it was okay, he was safe. Every time, Sam would eventually begin to loosen up and fall into a more peaceful, undisturbed sleep.

It became a comfortable pattern of normality for Castiel. It didn't matter to him that Sam was unaware of what he was doing for him. Why would it? He wasn't doing it for credit. He was doing it because the boy with the demon blood, had the kindest heart he had so far encountered. Who else would suffer the way he was, just to allow his brother peace of mind?

Flying to the Winchesters, Castiel studied the room they were in. They had moved again, but he had learnt by now never to expect them to be in the same surroundings as the previous night.

"Castiel? Hi." Sam greeted him almost instantly, surprising the angel. He was so used to having Dean yell something at him as he shot out of his skin, it made a refreshing change. He studied Sam carefully for a moment or two, tilting his head as he took in the scene. He was sat at a desk, laptop open and piles off books and newspaper articles littered around him. It was obvious he was in the middle of some serious research.

"Are you busy Sam? I can come back. "

"No don't be silly." Sam argued, gesturing with his arm, for Castiel to take a seat on the bed. "Do you need something?"

"Not particularly, I am still searching for God, but you cannot help with that." He replied bluntly, causing Sam to snort and flash him a soft smile.

Castiel decided he very much enjoyed seeing that expression on Sam's face, it was the most genuine one he had worn in a long time. His eyes looked a lot brighter now, the bags and redness had vanished. For once he looked rested, relaxed and not on the edge of completely burning out.

It made the angel feel good, knowing he had helped with that.

"Don't ever change man." Sam said with a laugh, confusing the angel.

"I've already changed Sam, I rebelled."

"Yeah... I just meant... never mind."

Castiel often wondered if Sam ever stayed on the same tangent for long.

"Are you hunting something?"

"Yeah, we're not sure what yet. There's been a string of deaths down town, the patterns date back all the way to when records began. There's crime reports from all over, it seems to move place to place, the cause of death is always unknown but they are found in the same position each time."

Sam ruffled though the loose clippings, pulling out a more recent crime scene photo of the victim and handed it to the angel. Castiel studied it carefully for a moment, his head tilted, the position the woman was in sure didn't look very comfortable. He supposed it didn't really matter, given she was already dead.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance."

\-------------------------------------

Castiel caught wind of a rumor going around the Catholic churches, of a man claiming to be in contact with God. Hearsay spoke of bush fires speaking to him, orders given in the most peculiar ways and good fortune falling on those who listened.

It was in a desert in the Middle East.

Castiel had no choice but to follow it up.

The problem was he would have to remain there at all times, he couldn't skip out to go see Sam for hours each day. He fought with himself internally for a while over this. In the end, he saw no other option but to go. If he managed to talk to God, then he could end the apocalypse once and for all. There would be no Lucifer haunting Sam in the night to deal with anymore.

A few days away wouldn't kill him and in the long run, maybe it would help.

Sam had survived with less sleep for longer.

\----------------------------------

He had been wrong. So very wrong.

The trail had turned to nothing, just a wayward angel with too much time on his hands. Castiel had not have been pleased. Especially when he found out Jehoel was just acting on Michael's orders, keeping him busy as he went after Dean.

Dean, thankfully had not been stupid and despite several broken limbs had refused to say yes. The archangel had put the brothers back together again by the time Castiel returned. That did not make him any less angry.

He searched for them as soon as he established what was going on. He found them in Bobby Singer's house, almost a week after last speaking to Sam while they were on that hunt. He believed they had dealt with the creature quite smoothly and had stopped by their surrogate father's to help with another case in the area soon after.

Dean and Bobby were in the kitchen, drinking copious amounts of alcohol in celebration of something or another. Probably decking the demon, or whatever had cropped up in the town.

Sam was the hunter Castiel was concerned for however, so he bypassed them and went straight for the bathroom. Remembering all too well Dean's instructions on the restricted zones, Castiel took a moment to make sure Sam was not sat on the cubical, submerged in water, or was in any way unclothed from the waist down.

Satisfied that none of them were the case, despite where the younger man was sitting, the angel landed and made himself visible.

He almost wished he didn't.

Sam was sat on the toilet seat lid, his head resting in the palms of his hands, hunched forward. He had small droplets of sweat covering his brow and had a slight tremble to him.  
Castiel never understood the expression 'as white as a ghost' given that ghosts were transparent, but looking at Sam now, he was starting to get it. His skin was deprived off all colour and he looked like he had dropped a fair bit of weight. He must not have been eating well either.

"Hello Sam." He said cautiously, trying his hardest not to spook the young man.

He didn't so much as flinch, his reflexes at an all time low.

"Hey Castiel." He replied simply, but made no effort to look up at him, drained of pretty much all of his energy.

"You should sleep."

Sam shook his head, slowly at first, but more vigorously as time went on.

"Is Lucifer still haunting you?" Castiel asked as he took a seat on the bath tub. He didn't always get human customs, but Sam seemed to like it when he was sitting down others were too when they spoke to him, so he obliged.

"Every time I close my eyes. He let up for a while, but I guess that was just to torture me more when he came back. He's just always there. He's Jess, he's dad, he's Bobby, Dean, Mom, you. Everyone I care about. He's there and he's saying and doing and... I can't take this, I can't take him turning the few good memories I have and twisting them. Why can't he stop? Why won't he just leave me alone."

Of all the things the angel had expected, Sam confiding in him like that wasn't one of them.

"Physiological torment is often the most successful." He replied rather unhelpfully.

Truth be told he didn't know what to say. He had learnt how to help the young Winchester when he was asleep, but he was unsure whether that would be an appropriate action while he was awake. He was all too aware of the distance between them when they were both functioning properly.

"Yeah you can say that again... " He scoffed, before his body sank and shook more. "Sorry you don't need to hear this."

"If I could find away to stop him I would Sam."

"I know, it's okay, really, it's not your job to help me."

The last part was said in barely a whisper, but Castiel heard it clearer than anything. Of course it was true, Dean was his charge. Not Sam, it was never about Sam. Heaven had ordered him to guide Dean on the right path, to protect Dean. Only Dean. Truth be told, he only kept Sam alive for him to be able to fulfill the prophesies and kill Lilith.

At times he had wanted to end his life.

On more occasions than he cared to admit he questioned why he wasn't allowed to.

But that was then, and this was now. He was no longer working under Heaven's command.

"You have a strange definition of okay Sam." Cas stated, realising not a truer word could have been spoken. He was starting to realise 'okay' meant ' as far from okay as I could possibly be.' "And I come for the both of you."

He wasn't sure if Sam heard him or not, his eyelids already drooping closed as he pressed his hands harder into his forehead.

Reaching out and slowly placing his hand on his shoulder Castiel gave it a gentle, yet firm squeeze, pulling him towards him slightly.

As Sam sighed and gave in Castiel vowed to never let him sleep another night alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel waited until he was sure Sam was asleep before he attempted to move him. Technically he could fly them both to his desired location with nothing more than a pinkie finger touching the young man, but somehow that didn't seem like it would ever be enough to support him. Without really thinking about it he found himself wrapping his arm around Sam's back and tightening his grip.

He needed to make sure Lucifer left him alone tonight.

He paused as he unravelled his wings, wondering where to take him. 

Recalling where the Winchesters slept last time he visited the house, Castiel flew them downstairs and gently re arranged Sam so he was laying on his back on the all too small sofa, pillows propped underneath his head to prevent neck strain.

Looking around, he grabbed a throw from the back of an arm chair and carefully placed it over him. Lucifer ran cold, it was important Sam stayed warm. He needed to be able to separate reality with what was happening inside his own mind.

When he was sure he was comfortable, he perched himself on the arm rest. His hand automatically reaching down to Sam's shoulder, rubbing small circles just below the arm socket. He couldn't reach his back like this, so this would have to do. Hopefully it didn't make too much of a difference. He was still unsure whether there were rules on what areas could be caressed. He figured as long as he stayed away from the 'Private regions' that Dean had explained, then he should be fine. 

An echo from the kitchen caused Castiel to divert his attention to the doorway, his angel senses picking up on what his vessel's ears could not. It took him a moment to register what it was he could hear as he zoned in on the two hunters' actions. The scrapping of chairs as they stood up, heavier footsteps- Bobby's- heading towards the sink, glasses being submerged in water, Dean knocking into a table, then them both turning and heading towards the room he and Sam currently occupied. 

In the blink of an eye, Castiel changed his celestial awareness, preventing the human form from picking up on him. Dean liked to call it his invisibility cloak, though this reference made no sense to the angel, he did not put on a coat he simply used his grace to alter what they could see. 

After failing Sam as badly as he had, he was determined to stay for as long as the boy needed to sleep for tonight. He had a funny feeling Dean would completely object to this though. He had a issue with being watched while he slept. They had found this out the hard way.

So he kept himself hidden, just to be on the safe side.

"Kid fell asleep then" Bobby affirmed as he walked though the room, pausing as he headed to the stairway to take a long look at Sam's sleeping form. Castiel had to fight the sudden desire to stand in front of him. Had to remind himself that he had no reason to have to protect Sam from them.

"Thank god for that." Dean replied, his eyebrows raising as he removed his top layer of clothing. Castiel could not fandom why Bobby seeing him in his undergarments was acceptable but for Castiel it was not. Humans were such bizarre creatures. He didn't think he would ever truly understand them.

Still, Dean had been quite clear, so Castiel adverted his eyes, instead focusing on the top of Sam's head.

" He's been trying to hide it, but he's been having nightmares for weeks." Dean continued.

The angel felt this temper flare, a hot burning rage shooting though his very being. 

Dean knew?  
Then why wasn't he helping Sam? Why was he forcing his brother to suffer though this in silence? Thinking he was protecting him from knowledge he already had? That was just cruel.

"Always was prone to them"

"I thought it was due to withdrawal at first. We were on a hunt over in Louisiana and he got demon blood on him. Never seen him stare at something with so much conviction before. I left it on the blade that night, just to see what he'd do." Dean admitted and it took all of Castiel's self control not to snap back into a form they could perceive and smack him in the face.

"And?" Bobby asked, causing the angel to shift his scowl to him too. That was not an acceptable response.

Dean shook his head and shrugged a shoulder indicating if he was on the juice again, he had a good way of hiding it.

Castiel, found himself gripping hold of the edge of the sofa, his grace swimming with desire to smite them. He didn't understand much about human customs but he damn well knew you didn't just leave someone to deal with things like this alone. Dean might know Sam better than he ever would but testing his resolve like that was asking for trouble.

Any ... guilt he did feel about not telling Dean what was going on quickly vanished. He didn't deserve to know the whole story, not when he so easily jumped to such awful conclusions.

The two said nothing else as they departed ways for the night but Dean shifted uncomfortably and kept looking over his shoulder suspiciously. Castiel realised his grace was reaching out to him in anger and quickly reined it in. Dean was his friend, the one destined to stop the apocalypse. He had to remember that.

Still, he could not stop himself giving the man diarrhoea that night and watching in great satisfaction every time he had to run to the bathroom.

Asshole.  
\---------------------

Sam slept for 36 hours straight, showing just how exhausted he really had been. Castiel kept his promise. He did not once leave Sam's side. Instead he sat there, whispering reassurances and rubbing circles on his arm, brushing his hand up and down his shoulder every time he so much as stirred. They had a few instances where Castiel really had to fight to calm Sam down, but he had managed each time.

He glared daggers when Dean and Bobby awoke and did nothing but watch Sam when he tossed or threw his head to the side in distress.

Whether they thought he was on the demon blood again or not, that didn't give them an excuse to do nothing.

When talk turned to maybe having to tie him down 'just in case', Castiel couldn't contain himself and a light above them smashed. 

It provided a good distraction.

They had been hunting a non-existent ghost since.

\--------------------------------

When Sam began to stir Castiel stood up slowly, not wanting to jar him awake. 

He should have flown off, he had done what he had came to. There was no reason for him to stay.

He did though.

He took barely two steps over to the arm chair and took a seat, his eyes never once leaving Sam's face.

He did not want him to awaken alone. His last memories being of the people around him saying or even doing, such horrible things.

"Hello Sam." He said as Sam sat up and wiped at his eyes.

The young Winchester turned to gaze in his direction, confused as he fought of the last remains of sleep.

"Hey?" Sam replied sleepily and Castiel had to admit it was one of the nicest sights he had ever seen. Sam cranked his neck from side to side, flexed his fingers and stretched his arms and back. Castiel gave him a moment to regain his bearings before he spoke again.

"You've been out thirty six hours, seven minutes and twelve seconds. I moved you down here after you fell asleep." He explained causing Sam to blink as he tried to register what he just said. His mind was still slightly foggy. 

Then his cheeks flushed bright pink and he cringed.

"Oh g...shoot... Cas... sorry... man I fell asleep on you... oh my g...SORRY!" He garbled, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately he moved to quickly for his limbs to follow properly and he soon found himself falling back down onto the edge of the couch. As he landed, the seat cushion did a flip and quickly sent him flying to the floor. Seconds later it landed on top of him with a thump.

It was Castiel's turn to just blink. 

The corners of his mouth twitched and his shoulders shook once. 

Now that was amusing.

Sam rubbed at the back of his head as he looked up at the angel sheepishly, his hair falling over his eyes.

"It's quite alright Sam." Castiel settled on eventually saying.

Humans got embarrassed over the strangest of things.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked looking around, the old farm house was far too quiet for his liking.

"Grave digging I believe. He may be under the impression this place is haunted."

"What gave him that idea?"

"I did." He stated simply and Sam was slightly taken aback by the honesty. "He was, getting, under my skin." He continued, chewing on the phasing carefully.  
Sam snorted.

Castiel's lips twitched into a half smile.

He supposed he got the context of it right after all.

They stayed silent for a moment before Sam broke it by clumsily getting to his feet.

"Urrr I think I need to freshen up... I'm just gunna..." He pointed up the stairs, running a hand though his hair to move it out of his line of vision.

Castiel nodded.

"Right, of course." Though he didn't understand at all what Sam was referring to. " I'll make you a sandwich for when you are done. Your stomach has been quite loudly protesting for several hours now." 

Sam blushed again as he placed his hand on his belly, his hair falling back into his face and his eyes briefly squeezing shut in an expression the angel had yet to come to recognise.

He muffled out a thanks as he quickly ascended the stairs.

Castiel turned to make his way into the kitchen, then paused as a flop of hair came back into his vision.

"Wait, angels know how to make sandwiches?"

"I'm celestial being Sam, how difficult can it be?" 

\------------------------------

It turned out it was very difficult. Very difficult indeed.

He understood the mechanics of it.

Bread

Filling

More bread.

But he did not know what Sam liked and Bobby had many options.

Did he want pressed curds of cow milk? The meat of a pig? Crushed strawberries? The fridge was full of choice and Castiel had no experience of the taste of such things to be able to tell what was a good combination and what would make the man sick.

If it was Dean, he would have demanded pie, he was quite vocal in his likes and dislikes. Made sure everyone around him knew his preferences whenever he was presented with anything.

But Sam was not Dean and Castiel was clueless. 

It wasn't as simple as just allowing himself to throw something together.

Sam would eat it whether he liked what was put in front of him or not, rather than come across as rude and refuse it.

And Castiel did not want to put him in that position.

So he stared at the contents of the fridge for as long as he heard the shower going for.

He had to get this right.

\------------------------------

When Sam entered the room, hair damp and in a change of clothes, Cas seated himself at the table and waited for him to do the same.

The second Sam saw the tray of food, his mouth dropped.

When Cas had said a sandwich, he was pretty much assuming he meant it in the singular terms. Instead laid out untouching in the centre of Bobby's old oak, were piles of the stuff.

"I was unsure what you would like." Cas said simply, watching Sam's expression with unease.

He knew he would get it wrong.

Sam's mouth remained agape as he slowly pulled up a chair.

"When you grow up on diner food you learn to eat anything." He replied with a small smile. He glanced up at Castiel and seemed to quickly realise that this meant something to him. Reaching over he grabbed the nearest one and quickly took a bite out of it. "Thanks Castiel this is great! But you didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"It was no trouble Sam."

Sam smiled and took a look at each loaf individually, trying to work out what ingredients he had used and if he needed to go shopping to replace Bobby's fridge before they left.

"Just one question." he continued, his brows knitting together as his eyes landed on something at the far edge of the tray. "What on earth is that one?"

He pointed towards a soggy brown roll that quite frankly looked like it was oozing out vinegar and smelt like the contents of Dean's stomach after a night out. 

"Dean says everything taste better with beer, I am not sure the bread agrees with that." Castiel answered seriously.

The angel had not expected the laugh which came next.

Or the way Sam threw his head back as his whole body shook from the sound he emitted.

It was pleasant sound Castiel decided.

It made his chest feel warm.

"Dude, you're unbelievable!"

As Sam picked up another sandwich, Castiel eyed the food warily. As he took a bite, the angel reached out and hesitantly picked one up himself. He studied it for a moment before bringing it to his lips and sinking his teeth in.

It tasted of molecules.

With a hint of something sweet. 

It wasn't as bad as he thought, Jimmy's stomach certainly seemed to be enjoying it. 

Castiel felt eyes on him and looked up from the snack to find Sam's disbelieving ones.

He tilted his head and Sam seemed to realise he was staring.

"Sorry... but since when do you eat?"

Castiel swallowed hard.

Now that was a question.

He thought about ignoring him.

He thought about lying to him.

He did neither.

"My rebellion has cut me off from heaven. My grace is...fading."  
"What?"  
"Eventually I will lose it completely." He admitted.

He couldn't bring himself to remain looking at Sam, he was hoping to keep this fact from the Winchesters for as long as possible.  
"There must be something we can do?"

Castiel didn't need to have Sam's face in his vision to be able to see the horror written on it, it was wound into his very voice.  
"I knew the consequences of defying Michael's orders. Of siding with you and Dean."

"Cas, I'm sorry" Sam stammered, at a loss of what else to say.  
"Do not be sorry Sam, I made the decision, not you." 

It wasn't a decision he had come to regret either. So long as he could continue to be of assistance to them in stopping the apocalypse. 

"What happens when it fades? To you I mean." The younger Winchester questioned, concern replacing horror in his tone. It felt strange to Castiel, to be the one someone was concerned about for a change.

He didn't like it.

"I am unsure, but I feel I won't be any use to either of you when it happens."  
"Use to us? Cas.."  
"It's fine Sam."  
"No it's not, You're one of us, you're always going to be one of us. Family doesn't mean having uses for each other. It's so much more. Castiel your stuck with us, Angel, human, cyborg swimming in the ocean, whatever you are, you're with us. Family doesn't end with blood, and it certainly doesn't end with power." 

Castiel felt something catch in his throat and he had to double check he had not just wrongly swallowed something.

He hadn't, but that didn't help him place the feeling.

The corners of his mouth twitched once, twice, three times before they broke out into his first proper smile.

If anyone was to ever ask him why he made the choices he did, he had a feeling this moment would be the one he told them of.

Especially when Sam smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This quick little story is becoming longer than i anticipated :')  
> Thank you so much to everyone who read, left kudos and commented on the last chapter. Means alot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not sure this is needed but better safe than sorry - Quick warning, Panic attack and slight mention of some sort of self harm.

The following nights had not been easy ones for Sam, Lucifer's current vessel was wearing out, almost splitting at the seams. He was getting impatient, angry and desperate. It made him go after the hunter with so much more force than before. Castiel did not know what visions had been played out before Sam's very eyes as he slept- he liked to pretend they weren't happening and Castiel would never invade his privacy by taking a look himself. More than anything he hoped the horrendous scenes his mind came up with were so much worse than what Sam had to experience.

The Winchesters had left Bobby's three days ago now and Dean was once again passed out drunk in their motel room. Sam had fought to stay awake as long as possible, kept himself busy with making sure his older brother wouldn't end up choking on his own vomit. Inevitably though he could only fight off sleep for so long before he was forced to crawl into bed.

He only planned to close his eyes for two minutes but before he even counted to ten, his brain had pulled him under.

Castiel appeared next to him seconds later.

Lucifer didn't give Sam a moment to rest. Descending on his dreams in a heartbeat. Almost as soon as Sam drifted off he began to show signs that the torment was already taking hold.

Castiel had a horrible feeling tonight was going to be a bad one.

\------------------------------------

An hour later and he was well and truly being proven right.

For the first time since the nightmares started, Sam began to make noises in his sleep. He tossed, he turned, he whimpered, he begged. His limbs shot everywhere, his muscles were tense, his breathing was getting more and more erratic. He cried out for Dean over and over. His body curled as small as his frame would allow, his face buried in the pillows one moment, then flung around the next. 

Dean was too far gone under the alcohol's influence to hear him. A quick visit from Castiel, ensured the occupants of the next few rooms were too. 

The angel had never seen Sam react like this before and he found himself cursing Lucifer ten times over. If he thought for a moment any kind of confrontation wouldn't end in his own death, Castiel would have been pulling the guts out of the devil's abdomen by now. 

He settled for brushing a hand through Sam's hair.

As angry as he was, his death would amount to nothing and Sam would be left to deal with the devil's onslaughts alone. He could never do that to him.

Sam whimpered again and Castiel's chest felt like it as being ripped in two.  
By now he had desperately tried every method he had come to know to calm him, to help him in some way.

All attempts had failed.

Sam had only gotten worse.

His cheeks were tear-stained, his body trembling, all colour was gone from his face. Even Castiel could see he was absolutely terrified.

What use was being an angel when he couldn't spare his friend from this?

As Sam's jaw locked and his fists clenched in agony, Castiel could not bear to watch it anymore.

So he broke his own rule.

He got of the bed, and as Sam twisted onto his back, Castiel reached down and gripped his forearms.  
"Sam wake up." He said roughly, shaking him slightly.

Sam did not wake and the tears continued to pour down his face as he pleaded for it to stop, for Lucifer to just leave him be.  
"Sam you need to wake up!"

He tried again and again, shaking him harder each time he spoke.

He knew Sam's body needed him to rest, but this wasn't rest, this was torture and Castiel couldn't let him suffer through it for a moment longer. His actions were getting violent and the angel feared he would end up hurting himself. Or worse, he would awake at the same time as Dean and force himself to pretend none of it happened. That he was fine.

He couldn't let him do that. Not this time. Whether Sam admitted it or not he needed to talk to someone about this. He couldn't keep bottling it all up.

It would end up breaking him if he did.

"Sam, WAKE UP." 

He shook him so hard Sam's head slammed backwards. The jolt was enough to break him free of Lucifer's clutches and as his eyes snapped open, the hunter instantly lunged forward.

"Get away from me!" He screamed, lashing out with his arms and legs, trying to force himself as far away from the person holding him as possible. "Get away, you're not real, you're not real."

Cas kept his grip firm, silently apologising for the bruises he was sure Sam was going to end up sustaining. He had to hold him though, he didn't know what he would do to himself in this state if he did not.

"I am real, Sam you're awake, calm down."

He didn't seem to be listening.

He was in full out panic mode. Fight or flight. His body working over time, not comprehending anything but shot so full of adrenaline that it just had to keep moving.

"PLEASE, PLEASE STOP."

His breathing was erratic, he couldn't tell the difference between what Lucifer was projecting into his head and what he was actually seeing. His eyes were wild and dilated. He was trying to scratch at everything and anything, the bedding, the lamp, Castiel, his own skin.

Castiel was becoming desperate. 

He let go of his arms and grabbed at his wrists instead, trying to ignore Sam's discoloured fingernails, the boys own blood soaking underneath them.

He had to calm him down.

Now.

He had to stop this before Sam hyperventilated to the point he rendered himself unconscious. Then he really would be stuck with Lucifer.

With no way of pulling him out.

Sam thrashed again, trying to claw at Castiel's coat. 

"Sam listen to me." He demanded.

Sam kicked out in response, his foot catching Castiel right in the stomach. It didn't hurt him, didn't even cause him to flinch, but the sheer force behind it took the angel by surprise. He was certainly strong for a human.

Sam threw his head back against the wall, pleading.

"Stop- Please."

There it was again, that one word which seemed to make every inch of Castiel want to do whatever Sam desired. It tugged at parts of him he didn't understand, made his chest feel so much tighter. It ached with the need to help him.

"I'm not him Sam." Castiel declared, his voice quiet, begging Sam to hear him and not whatever Lucifer based hallucination he was seeing. 

Sam kept fighting, thrusting against Castiel's arms with all his strength. His breathing got worse, he was gasping for air, but he would not stop pushing himself to his absolute limits.

Castiel was at a complete loss as to what to do.

He felt so useless, Lucifer knew everything Sam knew, there was no way to get through to him, nothing he could say which Lucifer probably hadn't said to Sam before. He was the type of angel who would rejoice in the ultimate torture; Letting someone believe they were free then proving them wrong. It wouldn't surprise Castiel in the slightest to learn that he'd done just that to Sam before.

As Sam cried out again, gasping for breath but seemingly unable to catch it, Castiel closed his eyes and racked his brain for one last thing to try.

"Beer Sandwiches." He yelled out. It was the most random, most insignificant thing Castiel could think of. Something Lucifer would never deem a memory worth touching. There would be no reason for it to ever get a mention, there was nothing remotely meaningful about a soggy piece of bread. 

Yet at the same time, there was. To them at least.

It seemed to work.

Sam stopped moving, stopped fighting, in an instant.

He just stared right at him.

Then, ever so slowly his eyes became more focused and they no longer looked like they were about to bulge out of his skull. Instead they locked onto the figure above him who was still pinning him to the wall.  
"Cas?" He wheezed.

The room was so dark, he could only just make out the features staring back at him. The figure nodded all the same and loosened his hold.  
"You're awake Sam, this is real."

Sam's eyes darted around every inch of the room, taking it all in. It looked no different to the area he was locked in, in his mind. Dean was there, Castiel was there, there were the same stains on the walls, the same smell of booze. The only thing that was different between the two scenes was that Dean was asleep here. He felt bile rise up the back of his throat, the panic starting all over again. 

"Look at me, feel my grip, it feels different to him doesn't it." Castiel injected, looking him directly in the eyes. Sam's attention turned to the angel's hands, then back to his face. He didn't understand what he meant. "This is real Sam."

Then all of a sudden he did.

Slowly he nodded and Castiel released his hands completely.

"You're warm." Sam whispered.

It was Castiel's turn to nod. Lucifer could influence many things, his core temperature was not one of them. That was the one difference that Sam could always rely on. The one he needed to store inside his head and pull at whenever things got too confusing.

Lucifer was cold. Castiel was not.

Sam shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself as he drew his knees to his chest. His breathing was still everywhere, but at least he had regained his sense of place. He saw Castiel moving, but paid little attention to it. He already knew where he was going, he didn't need to watch him fly away. He had done his job, he'd kept Sam from saying yes, now was his time to disappear.

Sam fought the voice down that was begging him to stay. To not leave him alone in the darkness.

He shivered violently.

And Castiel appeared in his vision again.

Sam looked up as the angel sat down in front of him. He narrowed his eyes in confusion as Castiel held out a soft grey blanket towards him, one he had long ago kicked to the floor. He understood the gesture almost instantly and reached out for it. Wrapping it around himself like a cocoon and tugging the edges till they met in the centre.

He had never been so grateful for warmth.

Despite this he shivered again, his shoulders trembling as he tried to steady his breathing. He knew where he was, he knew he was safe, but that didn't mean the memories weren't still at the forecourt of his mind.

Lucifer's laugh, the blade, Dean's hands, the tightness around his neck. He could feel the air being sucked out of him, his head becoming heavy, his vision darkening. There were spots, so many spots and Dean's laugh - Lucifer's, Dean's, Cas' all mixed into one single noise. Sam's pleading coming out in chokes. The words. Monster, Vampire, worthless, untrustable. It wasn't his brother saying this his mind tried to scream at him. Yet it was, every single word picked from a memory. They were repeated over and over. Freak, inhuman, something to be hunted. Then there was the fists, the grips, the pain. The-

"Sam." Castiel was there again, his hand on his shoulder this time, shaking him firmly, forcing the thoughts from his head.

He gasped for air, not even realising he had stopped breathing.

He gripped at his head, tugging at his hair and he tried desperately to get some oxygen into his lungs.

When had breathing become so hard?

He could feel the blood pounding through his ears, his heart beating so fast he thought it was going to crack his ribs. He wanted to crawl out of his own skin. His head was killing and everywhere just ached. He wondered if Lucifer was still with him and horror seized him.

Castiel's hand was on his back now, rubbing up and down.

"You must calm down."

Sam wished he could.  
"I-I can't..."

"Yes you can, you're strong Sam, believe me, you can do this ."

Sam did not look like he believed him.

"Listen to me... Breathe in." Castiel said softly and Sam swore he had never heard a gentler tone coming from him. He shook his head though, he couldn't, he couldn't do it. Nonetheless Castiel didn't give up. He repeated the statement, nodding his head encouragingly, the pattern being drawn on Sam's back not once stopping.

"Breathe in Sam, breathe in."

Finally Sam did. Shakily, but he did.

"Now hold your breath."

He did that too, confusion and panic and a thousand other emotions passing across his face. 

If it was any other time, Castiel would have marvelled at Sam's ability to be so worked up yet still manage to show such trust in another. He could see it in his eyes, the absolute conviction that whatever was going on, he could rely on his and Dean's guardian angel. 

"And breathe out."

It was far from steady or continuous, but with great effort he was able to force the air out of his lungs.

Castiel gave him a reassuring smile, then repeated the process all over again.

It was a good five minutes before Sam managed to do all three without first being prompted. It took a little longer for his heart beat to start slowing back down. Castiel did not stop his hand's movement until he felt Sam's back completely relax and his chest, start rising and falling at its normal rhythm. As soon as he was sure it was no longer needed , he quickly drew his hand away.

Sam immediately sank back against the wall, absolutely exhausted. Every cell in his body felt like it had all its energy sucked out of it. His feet, hands, arms and legs just ached and he felt sick to his stomach. He was pretty sure he was going to end up vomiting and quickly looked around for somewhere to aim for which would not end up hitting the angel.

Freaking out in front of him was one thing, but he was unsure how Castiel would react to getting covered with the insides of his stomach.

"Do you need anything?"  
"Water?" 

Castiel was not sure why that was said as if it was a question, but he got to his feet and headed to the bathroom all the same.

Sam gulped the whole thing down without a break, his arm shaking as he handed the glass back to Castiel. God he needed to sleep now more than ever, but just the thought of trying again filled him with dread. 

"Thanks Cas."  
"Do you require anything else Sam?"

Sam shook his head as he rested it in the palm of his hands, his elbow propped against his thigh to support the weight. He could see the purple bruising already forming and the scratches that ran down his arms. They were going to be hard to explain to Dean in the morning.

"I'm sorry Sam, I did not mean to mark you."

Castiel said quietly, picking up on the grimace he did as he took in the contusions. Lucifer left mental scarring, Castiel apparently left physical. He was ashamed of himself. He should have found another way other than restraint. 

"What?... No Cas, I get it. I don't care about them, I just care that I'm awake."

Castiel couldn't help but feel like that was part of the problem.

Sam sighed, drawing himself back up so he could lean back against the wall again. He needed coffee, lots and lots of coffee. He briefly saw Cas look up to the heavens before he squeezed his eyes shut.

"You need to go." He stated, trying to ignore the dread which was building up in his stomach.

"Yes, Balthazar has found something."

Sam nodded and swallowed hard. He was being ridiculous, he would be fine. The angel had already spent too much time with him as it was. 

"Unless you wish for me to stay." Castiel continued, looking at Sam carefully. He was starting to understand these types of questions needed to be asked, Sam would never volunteer the information on his own.

"What?" Sam replied, genuinely shocked that Castiel would even consider just sitting with him. "No, no, it's fine, people have it way worse than me, I'm f-"

"Sam if the next word out of your mouth is fine, okay, or some other variation of those words I will take away your ability to say them" Castiel interrupted, his expression deadly serious. He was starting to think he should get the boy a dictionary which explained those terms in great detail. He seemed to have one hell of a knack for misusing them.

Maybe it was a Winchester thing.

"You can do that?" Sam asked, avoiding answering the original question completely. It wasn't entirely on purpose, he was genuinely curious.

"Let's not find out. You are not fine, stop pretending you are, you don't have to hide anything with me"

Castiel watched Sam carefully as his blank expression broke ever so briefly and for perhaps the first true time the angel got a glimpse into what this was actually like for him.

"Do you want me to stay until Dean awakes?"  
Sam looked for a moment like he was going to say no, but his resolve broke and he nodded twice.

"If I'm on my own, I'm afraid I'll start thinking about it again and it will be like he's here, like it's still happening."

Castiel dipped his head in understanding, because he did, understand that is.  
Stiffly he sat himself on the edge of Sam's bed. 

"Did you know that the discovery of REM sleep was delayed due to the scientists involved not wanting to waste paper?"

Sam creased his brow in confusion and drew his lips together in amusement. That was the first, but certainly not the last fact Castiel came out with that night. From coffee beans to the first known civilisation. He told him it all. 

When Dean woke hours later to find them sat at the computer, researching airplane model shops he just rolled his eyes and locked himself in the bathroom.

He didn't even want to know.


	4. Chapter 4

Exhaling hard in frustration Dean began pacing the length of their current motel room. Angry didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling- he just had this white rage burning through him that he was finding really hard to keep under control. He had been able to distract himself before, preparing the room, putting everything where it needed to be, he'd even cleaned up a little. Now he was out of options and his fury was just bubbling under his skin, itching to come out.

He had sent Sam on a food and research run but that was hours ago and he would be back soon. 

This needed to be dealt with before then.

"I swear if you do not get your feathery ass over here I'm gunna..."  
"You do not need to shout, the volume of your voice does not alter the likelihood of me hearing you." 

Spinning on his heels Dean turned to face the angel, who, as usual , was stood just centimeters from him. His hand slipped into his jacket's pocket the second he laid eyes on Castiel, gripping its contents to try and ground himself, to keep his temper in check.

"Hello Dean." Castiel said, his eyes being the only part of his body following the hunter's movement. He stood stoic in the middle of the room, his arms hung stiffly at his sides, his head tilted at a very slight angle.

"Where have you been, I've been calling for hours?" Dean demanded, his voice rough. He took a sidestep and walked around the angel, putting some distance between them. If this turned out to be one massive misunderstanding he would have to remember to have yet another crack at explaining the concept of personal space to him. For now though, he couldn't help the smug smile which momentarily slipped onto his face at the predictability. 

"I was busy." Castiel replied, his expression blank. He followed Dean's change of direction with ease, but remained almost statue like.  
"Busy?!" Dean mocked, his hand loosening its grip ever so slightly on the lighter in his pocket. Almost subconsciously he began flicking the lid open and closed with just his thumb. He tensed his jaw and pressed his lips together, trying to stop himself from lashing out right there and then. 

"Yes searching for God, trying to stop the apocalypse- it may have escaped your attention but there's a war going on." Castiel responded through narrowed eyes and he soon found himself folding his arms, waiting for Dean to volunteer the reason for his constant calls that morning. He wasn't always the best at picking up on body language, but he liked to think he had gotten better. Right now Dean was radiating antipathy and it made him highly suspicious on what all this was regarding.

He could also hear a tiny click-click click-click emitting from the hunter's coat and he found his eyes drawing to that, rather than his face.

"I could be dying for all you know." Dean sniped raising one of his eyebrows.

" I could not help you if you were. You would have no reason to fear either, Michael would never allow his vessel to perish- He'd simply bring you back." He paused, then as an afterthought added. "Somewhat painfully, but he'd still do it."

"Well jeez Cas don't sugar coat it." 

Dean moved over to the dresser to their left and rested against it, grinding his teeth. He put one hand behind him to support his weight, the other remained inside his jacket, still playing therapeutically with what was inside it. 

Castiel just watched him apprehensively.

"What do you want?" He eventually spoke, his focus still on the leather material covering Dean's hand. Something was telling him he needed to be on guard here, that something wasn't sitting right, Dean's anger seemed to be directed at him and he had no idea why.

He found he did not like not knowing.

"Hey I'm the one who gets to be pissy here not you - what the hell did you do to my brother?!"

Now that got Castiel's undivided attention.

Dean's whole expression became even more tense as he spoke, he stopped leaning and took on his full height, breathing deeply as his eyes travelled down to Castiel's hands. His shoulders were rigid, trying to make him look as intimidating as possible.

Given Castiel had the ability to knock him flying with a flick of a finger, the posture change had little effect on the angel.

Dean tensed his jaw and pressed his lips together, his anger souring.

When he had come out of the bathroom that morning he had found himself staring at Sam trying to patch up one of his arms. He had tried to hide it, pulled his sleeves down over it the moment he noticed Dean. Unfortunately for the angel, he wasn't quick enough. Like lightning Dean had made his way across the room and practically tore his shirt off. 

What he saw had sickened him.

The purple patterns of two very distinctive looking hands.

He clicked the lighter open again.

At that point Castiel was finally able to register what it was Dean had hold of. Unfolding his arms and clenching his fists at his side, he briefly glanced down, already knowing what he was about to find on the already stained carpet. 

Holy oil.

"Nothing." he replied simply, glancing back up towards Dean, who took a step forward. 

That was not the correct answer.

"Nothing?! You don't think I recognise your scrawny hand prints?"

Dean's face was turning red, the vein on his neck sticking out at the thought of the angel harming his brother. He'd been taken aback the first time he'd introduced Sam and Castiel to each other. He hadn't expected the reaction that came from either of them. Sam had been in-aware, then so hurt as he realised how the angels really felt about his existence. Dean had thought that after everything they had been through together, that maybe things had gotten better between them. They seemed to talk more, Castiel no longer acted like Sam was just something he had to tolerate.

He had thought they'd turned a corner.

He had thought Castiel with his rebellion against the angels had changed his perspective of Sam too, saw the good in him as well as the bad. 

He'd apparently been wrong all along.  
He silently swore to himself that if this had been going on the whole time they had known him, he'd make every deal going to be given the ability to tear each individual feather of Castiel's back over and over again until he was screaming for mercy. 

He would find none.

Castiel flinched, a flash of guilt appearing across his face. 

That was all the confirmation Dean needed.

He pulled the lighter out of his pocket and flipped the lid open.

"Maybe you should ask Sam." Castiel responded warily, his eyes locked on the lighter. He made no attempt to move however. As things stood he could fly off before the flame even hit the oil anyway. He had the sense not to mention that though.

"I did! He clammed up, he's scared shitless, made some phony excuse. I've been taking care of the kid for twenty five years, you don't think I know when he's lying? So I'll ask again. What. Did. You. Do?"

Dean flicked the switch and the flame danced in his hand, ready, waiting for Castiel's next words. If it had been anyone else, they would have been dead already. But this was Cas, he saved him from hell, he freed him so he could go and try and stop Sam, he had fought by their sides time and time again. 

So he got the one thing Dean never gave, he got one chance and one chance only to explain his actions.

It was now or never and even Castiel could see that.

The angel closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly.

"I was trying to stop him." He admitted slowly, chewing on the words.

"From what?"

Castiel said nothing, his eyes falling back to the circle he was stood in, then over to the bed where Sam had spent the night. The sheets were still twisted. They were dry by now but his eyes could still pick up the marks Sam had left on the pillows. He could even still hear the echoes of his screams as he begged for Lucifer to stop. For him to not touch that memory. 

He closed his eyes again, trying to block it out.

"From what Cas?" Dean repeated, his voice dangerously low as he took a few steps forward. What surprised Cas however was the direction he pointed the lighter in, not towards him, but towards the wall. "You have two seconds to answer me or we will find out what happens to an angel who gets barbequed."

Dean reached over and pressed the flame an inch away from a long piece of rope that seemed to be hanging from the ceiling. Castiel did not recall that being there last night and slowly followed its path upwards. His eyes soon landed on a bucket that hung above his head.

If he was human, he was pretty sure this was the point where he was supposed to get nervous.

"Holy oil I presume?"  
"What else would be it."

Castiel had to admit a part of him was impressed, though it was hardly surprising that Alastair best student had come up with a few tricks of his own. He held on to the fact Dean had not yet roasted him with some sense of relief. At least it meant he wasn't particularly enjoying this. That he hadn't given in completely to the darker path he had spent ten years in hell going down.

"I did not hurt Sam on purpose if that is what you're thinking Dean, I just... I needed to calm him."

Dean moved his hand away from the rope and folded his arms across his chest, allowing the flame to die down completely. He however did not put it away, kept it in his hands as he leant backwards and studied the angel carefully. Suspicion was still written all over his features. He really didn't know what to believe. Sam was his little brother and seeing him hurt by someone who was meant to be on their team killed him inside. With all the things that happened to them, he didn't deserve to have to fear the people who were supposed to be his friends too. 

He hoped beyond anything else that that was not the case.

"Calm him down from what? The demon blood? Is he on the crack again?"  
"No." Castiel replied, he made no attempt to elaborate however. Whether the threat of death was hanging over his head or not, he was not going to make this easy for the older Winchester. Sam had put his trust in him and he was not going to just blurt out what he obviously wanted to stay hidden.

He knew he'd ruin any future chances of him opening up to him again if he did. 

"Really?" Dean asked in mild disbelief, his expression loosening. 

"Yes."

The lighter went back into his pocket and Castiel took it as an opportunity to step out of the circle. If Dean was no longer threatening to kill him, then he figured he no longer had to stay there to placate him.

"Am I going to get more than one word answers from you here?" 

The frustration was evident in his voice as he ran a hand down his face. Castiel almost felt regret for not telling him, but a second glance to Sam's bed quickly reaffirmed his belief he was doing the right thing. Dean was great when Sam was hurt or sick, Castiel had witnessed this on many occasions since entering the Winchesters' lives. He didn't however deal with the emotional side of things very well and right now, that's what Sam required the most.

Castiel knew he too was not the best person for that job, but he was determined to try at the very least. Sam needed somebody to try.

"Cas, please - What is going on with him."  
"You should ask Sam."  
"I've tried!"  
"Not hard enough."

Castiel knew instantly that was probably the wrong thing to say as Dean's eyes shot a thousand daggers in his direction, his temper flaring up again. He should have known better by now really. 

For a moment Castiel thanked his lucky stars he was no longer in the holy trap.

"Don't you dare, I've always been there for Sammy, no matter what he's been though, I've been there and its always been enough before so don't you dare tell me I'm not trying hard enough now." He snapped, springing to a standing position and marching over to the angel, a finger pointed directly in his face.

"Then stop thinking the worst of him and he might tell you himself. " Castiel replied, not moving a single inch. Given Dean's issues with personal space, he was certainly stepping into his now, he wondered briefly if that was how humans truly made their threats hold more meaning.

"Cas!"  
"I'm not betraying his trust Dean, I cannot and will not do that to him, just know I am trying to help him through this."

Castiel could tell Dean was becoming completely exasperated and he wished he could give him something, anything to help him understand. He just had to keep reminding himself however that it wasn't his place. He would not get involved in the issues between them.

If the early hours of this morning had shown the angel anything, it was that one of the key issues Sam had with wanting to keep this from Dean, was fear over how he would otherwise react. His actions over the past few months had made it quite clear he didn't trust Sam, especially where demon blood was concerned. Not that Castiel could blame him entirely for that one, but it just gave Sam more fuel to use in favour of keeping his mouth shut. If Dean felt he couldn't be relied on to stay off the blood and wouldn't listen to his judgement based on that, then how would he react to finding out Lucifer was whispering in his ear. 

He hadn't said it in so many words, but Castiel got the distinct impression that Sam thought Dean would end up locking him in the panic room again. He couldn't be psychologically tortured into saying yes to Lucifer, if physically at least, the devil could not find him. Even if Sam said yes in his mind, Lucifer would need a body to puff into. 

Castiel had seen the haunted look in Sam's eyes just thinking about that room and he swore in that moment he'd never let him be locked in there like that again. A look he had when he was talking about Lucifer should not be the same look he had when talking about a place his brother had put him. 

It was just wrong.

"Through what? If not the demon blood then what? What is it?" Dean continued and Cas couldn't help but look at him as if he had just asked the most obvious question in the world. In retrospect that probably wasn't his smartest idea, Dean was a genius in his own right.

Dean's eyes narrowed for a second as he took in that look, before suddenly widening as realisation dawned on him.

"Lucifer? Is that it? The nightmares he's been having- they're him?" Castiel could only blink slowly in response and look away from the hunter, not saying anything but not denying anything either. He couldn't win no matter what he responded with. " They are aren't they?!"

Castiel remained quiet for a moment, debating with himself exactly how to phase what would enlighten Dean, but still not betray Sam.

"You didn't think he would just sit back and just wait for Sam to decide to say yes did you?" Castiel responded cautiously, looking back towards Dean. In an instant Dean threw his arms into the air, shaking his head in a mixture of anger and doubt.

It was his turn to twist away from Castiel and he walked towards the window. He didn't say a word for about a minute, instead he just stared out into the motel parking lot, rubbing his hand across his stubble. Trying desperately to take it all in. 

"Shit ." He mumbled before taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling. Castiel got the distinct impression that he was calling God every name under the sun for not stepping in and stopping this a long time ago. He couldn't find it within him to call him out on that. He had a valid point. "And what he would rather talk to you about it?"

"At least he's talking to someone ...I'm trying my best to help him Dean, I am."

"Well bang up job you're doing there, he looks like hell!" Dean snapped, before his shoulders sank and he turned back to face Castiel with a silent apology on his tongue. 

"Lucifer is an archangel, there is only so much I can do Dean." Castiel admitted, wondering how dangerously close he was getting to saying too much. Would Sam find what he was revealing acceptable given Dean had figured it out himself? Or would he hate him for confirming his suspicions? "But I can promise you, I will not stop until I find a way for Sam to block him out."

With that said he vowed to not to say another word on the subject. 

Dean knew, Dean knew Sam was not alone in this, Dean knew he was going to get help. That's all he needed to know. The details were none of his buisness unless Sam said otherwise.

The older Winchester looked seriously conflicted. He tried to say something a couple of times, but just ended opening his mouth like a goldfish. His brow was creased, his lips turned up and his body was restless as he tried to decide what to do. He hated the fact Sam was going though something he was unable to prevent. He didn't even know how to help him, a broken bone you put a cast on, an upset stomach you got some ginger ale for, but how did you heal something of the mind?

One look at the angel's face, showed Dean he wasn't going to get any more answers from him and he was forced to swallow the brigade of questions which rose up his throat.

"Looks like I don't have much of a choice but to take your word on that." Dean replied. He wanted to say more, so much more, he wanted to yell at him for not telling him sooner, he wanted to scream at the heavens for putting this whole thing on them. He wanted to strangle the devil with his bare hands. He wanted to resuscitate the demon that started all of this and get him to suck the blood right back out of his brother. 

Their lives had been manipulated for so long, didn't they deserve some sort of break by now?

He didn't say any of this though and as much as he hated to admit it, Castiel was right about one thing- Sam had to be the one to tell him if he was to know anything. He also had to begrudgingly admit that while it frustrated him to no end, he was kind of glad that at least Sam was talking to someone. He also respected the fact Castiel wasn't spilling his guts, that he respected Sam enough to keep quiet.

He drew out a breath.

"Cas I'm not happy about this, but... if talking to you is what's going to keep Sam from saying Yes, then okay, I'll allow it. I'll stay out of it for now."

Castiel had to force his vessel to keep quiet, his eyes turning to slits at Dean's choice of words. He had to fight of the urge to tell the older Winchester that he wasn't asking permission and Sam certainly didn't need to be either. He wasn't something to be controlled, he had to be allowed to make his own choices. That was what Castiel's rebellion had been all about- free will.

"But I'm warning you now you take that responsibility seriously, you hurt him again, in any way and I swear you will be right back under that bucket, you understand me?" Dean threatened and Castiel was left with little doubt that that was true. If there was one thing you didn't do, it was mess with one of them on the other's watch.

He wondered how long it would be before other angels, demons and monsters alike learnt that lesson.

"I do."

"I mean it Cas, whatever he tells you, don't you ever use it against him!"

"You have my word."

And he had never meant anything more.

As Dean opened his mouth to say something else, Castiel's eyes travelled to the motel room's door. Dean frowned and momentarily looked annoyed at being brushed off, before his ears too picked up on some footsteps approaching and the tell tale sign of a door handle turning.

He took a step back before the door fully opened.

"Next time you want pie, get it yourself, you should have seen the queue, I think my toes have frost bite." Sam called out as he pushed the door open and hurried into the room, slamming it closed with his foot behind him. He dumped the bags he was carrying on top of Dean's bed and turned his head to look for his brother. He froze when his eyes landed on the scene in front of him. "Cas?...What's going on?" He asked instantly, his eyes securitizing every detail. The two of them were stood very close, looking like they had been in some sort of heated debate and he could clearly see the bucket dangling from the ceiling.

So that's why Dean had asked him to steal it from the cleaning trolley that morning. 

He stepped forward a little and felt the carpet squelch under his foot.

"Nothing." Dean replied quickly, sending Castiel a look as he headed towards the groceries. He reached into the bags and started ruffling through them, making a point of ignoring the look of bewilderment on his brother's face. 

"Then why is there a bucket...?" Sam continued, but was cut off as Dean shot up and dropped his hands to his side.

"Dude where's my pie?"

He looked absolutely outraged.

Sam appeared taken aback for a moment and he quickly put his hands into the bags to have a look himself. When he couldn't find it, he stood up straighter, put his left hand to the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly.

"Must have left it in the car."

Castiel snorted in amusement at the expression which fell onto Dean's face. The older Winchester instantly grabbed the impala's keys and headed to the door with narrowed eyes. As he pulled it open, he paused, grinned to himself, turned and looked over to the angel, sending him a wink.

"I might just eat it down there."

With that he was gone and Sam moved his head to look at Castiel suspiciously.

"What was that about?" He asked carefully, making his way a bit further into the room to investigate what exactly the object that was dangling from the ceiling contained.

"Your brother is under the impression he has just given me permission to help you." Castiel stated simply. He saw no point in lying, Sam deserved to know what had transpired especially as it involved him. The angel also had an inkling that it was important he was upfront about it now, Sam would only get the wrong impression if he found out on his own.

And he would find out.

"He's what?"

"He is aware of your nightmares Sam, he called me to... talk." The angel explained. "I have told him nothing." he added quickly seeing the hurt look which quickly flashed across Sam's face. "...but he seems to be under the misguided notion that I'm now helping you because he has allowed me too."

Sam sat down on the bed and looked at Castiel warily for a moment, before his eyes glanced towards the last place he had seen Dean. Castiel did not understand the expression but suddenly felt the desire to clarify his point further. Sam had only just started accepting Castiel was there for him as well as Dean, he did not want that to suddenly start backtracking.

"I assure you, that's not the case. I would continue to be there for you no matter what he thought."

Sam brushed the stray stands of hair behind his ears a couple of times, staring at the floor, trying to take in what this all meant. Castiel waited patiently for him to process it but took a few steps closer to him when the pause stretched on.

"I would never tell him anything you told me in confidence Sam." Castiel continued, wondering what on earth was going through his mind. He wanted to do nothing but reassure him, but without knowing what the exact issue was he didn't know how to achieve that successfully. Awkwardly he reached forward and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, rubbing it slightly with his thumb.

Sam looked towards the angel's hand in an instant, his eyes flashing in recognition for a second. He shook it off quickly and looked up at Castiel's face instead.

"How long has he known?" He asked carefully, rubbing at the corners of his eyes with his index finger and thumb. 

"A while I think, though he thought it was down to demon blood."

Sam winced.

Castiel wished there was a softer way he could have put that.

"It's not! You know that right, I'd never... not again... not ever again." Sam replied, his eyes pleading to be believed. He had to know he was as clean as he was ever going to be. He couldn't stand the thought of Castiel thinking otherwise. His friendship with the angel meant everything to him now, he didn't want to jeopardise that, didn't want him to think of him as nothing more than a demon junkie, an abomination again. 

"I know Sam." Castiel replied simply and he could feel the tension which had built up under Sam's skin, relaxing.

"Good, I don't want you thinking that of me." he muttered, resisting the urge to put his hand on top of Castiel's which still rested on his shoulder. Instead he ran it down his face, drawing it out as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Do you think he's tired of dealing with me? Is that why he's not said anything?"

"That is a conversation you would have to have with him. I wouldn't know."

Sam nodded.  
Castiel looked up and reluctantly unbound his wings.

"I'm sorry Sam I have to go. Will you be alright?" He continued, if it could have waited then he would have left it, but he did not want his newest lead's trail to run cold, which it was currently doing. 

Thankfully Sam didn't seem fazed and nodded again.  
"Yeah don't worry about me."

"Not possible."

Sam ducked his head and smiled.

Castiel cleared his throat.  
Making sure he couldn't sense anything that would indicate Sam wanted him to stay and was really just hiding it, Castiel gave Sam's shoulder a firm squeezed and vanished.

Sam went to stand up, but promptly fell backwards in shock as not seconds later Castiel reappeared in front of him, sending him colliding back into the bed.

"Oh and Sam, do not worry yourself, I can assure you, you do not have frostbite."

He left again just as abruptly, but not before hearing Sam laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not alot of Sam/ Cas interaction this time. I'll make up for that in the next chapter!  
> I hope Dean's characterization was okay!  
> Thanks everyone for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

His talk with Dean stayed with Castiel for the rest of the day. He knew he was just doing his brotherly duties but the angel couldn't help but wonder if the man really did think that little of him. Did he actually believe he would use something he was told against Sam in the future? That he would be that malicious?

Maybe once, back when Sam was working with demons and Castiel knew so little about him. But not now.

Never now.

He didn't understand the change in his perception of Sam for a second time that year. All he knew was he felt a desire to help him through anything. At first he tried to write it off as concern for the earth - that he was doing all of this to try and stop him from saying yes.

But that simply was not true.

He couldn't even pretend that was the reason anymore, especially after what had transpired with Anna over a month ago. 

The whole situation had shown him exactly where his priorities now stood and they weren't with just stopping the apocalypse.

Once he had thought he would do anything to preserve the earth as it was, that no cost was too great if it meant beating the devil. He had been wrong in that assumption. Just hearing the fallen Angel suggesting splitting Sam's atoms all over the universe, provoked the strongest reaction within him he had ever felt. The desire to protect, burning through him in a way he could not describe. Hot and so full of energy he had not possessed since the angels had discovered he had began to express doubt.

In that moment he knew he would do anything to defend him.

Even now, Castiel still could not even entertain the idea of destroying him.

Just the thought of going through with it made his grace churn.

Sam Winchester was his friend and he couldn't be a part of a world where he wasn't.

Castiel's hated to admit it but his entire centre had shifted, everything he was doing all came back to Sam.

He just wanted him to be happy.

Safe.

Healthy.

All of the above.

Of all the feelings he had began to develop since his fall the ones towards Sam were the most complicated, the ones he couldn't place or even begin to comprehend.

Sam had once told him he could ask him anything and he would do his best to explain.

Castiel had still not gone to him with this.

He wanted to more than anything, felt that perhaps he of all people would be in the best position to assist him on the matter, but he could never bring himself to bring it up.

He couldn't explain why, but something was telling him it was important that he came to understand it all on his own.

\--------------------------------------

It was gone midnight before Castiel had deemed his most recent lead another dead end. At this rate he was starting to believe that he would never find his father.

Descending into the same motel room he had twice previously. Castiel quickly looked around for Sam. He had not bothered to sense whether the brothers were still there or not. Dean had not seemed like he was in any hurry to leave the town during their earlier encounter and with the amount of food Sam had brought back, he hadn't either.

One sniff of the air showed Castiel he had been right in his assumption, the Winchesters were definitely still about somewhere. Glancing around, he expected to see at least Dean tucked under the covers, but his bed remained as made up and untouched as Sam's. 

There was a second aroma that took him slightly longer to register, a strong smell of fermented grain mash.

It made his nose twitch.

Castiel presumed this meant Dean had been hitting the bars pretty hard that night - that perhaps his inevitable talk with Sam had not gone well and had lead the older Winchester to seek solace in a corpus amount of alcohol.

Personally Castiel did not see the appeal of the substance himself. Aside from making humans smell like the inside of a horse's digestive system, his experiences with Dean showed him it only made situations worse in the long run. 

Shifting his attention to his right, he noticed the bathroom door was admitting a soft light in the narrow space surrounding it and its frame. Figuring that was where they were resided, Castiel folded his arms across his chest and simply stood there, waiting for them to emerge, his eyes squinted. He did not understand why they would both be 'using the facilities' on the same occasion, he had come to believe that was an area designated for one person at a time. 

Then again perhaps alcohol changed the social rules.

There was still so many human customs he had yet to learn, that could just have been another one of them.

When the arrow on the the clock did two complete turns without a sound admitting from the room, Castiel took a step forwards. He did not like to be kept waiting indefinitely and was starting to think they would hurry up if he announced his presence.

Briefly he pondered whether he should just go in there- Whatever they were doing, it couldn't have been what the bathroom was designed for. He was pretty sure that required some sound effects.

Hearing the door click open prevented the angel from having to make a decision. He was however somewhat surprised to see just Sam stumbling out.

His head tilted in confusion as he quickly found himself having to reach forward to grab the collar of Sam's shirt. If he had not caught him, he was almost certain he would have landed face first on the floor. 

Sam attempted to spin around to check who had come to his rescue, but only managed to turn his head before he lost his balance again.

This time, Castiel led him over to the edge of the bed, not letting go of his shirt until he was safely deposited in a sitting position.

Sam gave him a goofy grin.

"Are you drunk Sam?" Castiel asked. While he had seen the younger Winchester drinking with Dean on a number of occasions, he couldn't recall one where he had got himself into a similar state as his brother. One glance to the boy's liver showed that was indeed the case though.

"Maybeee." Sam replied, before he hiccupped. He let out a laugh nervously at that and covered his mouth. Castiel just watched him in confusion.

"Where's Dean?" Castiel pressed on, wondering if he should go into the bathroom and check he wasn't incapacitated on the floor somewhere. He believed many people choked on their own stomach lining that way.

As Sam swayed slightly and squeezed his eyes closed contemplating an answer, Castiel couldn't help but wonder what exactly had been said between the brothers during their confrontation for Sam to be the one to end up in this state. He then winced at the thought of what Dean would therefore be like.

"He pulled a cop." Sam eventually stated, causing the angel to frown and narrow his eyes. That had not been an answer he was expecting. 

"Pulled a cop where?"

Sam snorted.

"Onto his dick."

That did nothing to lesson Castiel's confusion.

"That sounds.. uncomfortable." He replied, choosing his wording carefully. He remembered accidently hitting Dean in that area once when he had insisted on him 'tossing him the remote'. He had doubled over in pain. Castiel could not see how doing that of his own free will was meant to be pleasurable.

"It sounds like sex Cas." Sam stated bluntly, brushing the hair out of his face with one hand as he watched the angel's vigilantly for a reaction. When Cas' face remained blank he sighed and rubbed at his eyes, throwing his head back slightly. This action caused him to sway backwards and Castiel found himself having to reach out to steady him again.

"Right." Castiel retorted, only removing his hand from Sam's shoulder once he was certain the man had somewhat regained his balance. Sam just grinned, finding the whole situation hilarious and Castiel had no choice but to softly smile back. The room, by human standards was quite dark, furniture only being visible as shadows but Sam just seemed to have this light about him which was brightening the whole place up. It was like his soul was humming.

"Have you ever had sex Cas?" He suddenly asked, curiosity breaking out across his features. Cas' eyes instantly squinted in his direction as he wondered where on earth that question had stemmed from. Sure it wasn't really a topic they had ever encountered before, but Sam was never one to ask things like that of him, questions about himself rather than angels as a whole. It made him wonder whether Sam had similar thoughts when he wasn't under the effects of alcohol and if so, why he didn't just ask outright instead of keeping them to himself.

He certainly was a strange one.

Sam's brow creasing as the silence stretched on made Castiel realise he had probably spent too long appearing to contemplate the answer.

"No." He replied simply.

Sam couldn't say he was surprised.

"Do you not want to wrap your tentacles around someone?" He inquired, his expression one of innocence. Castiel found a weird noise admitting from the back of his throat as air forced its way up Jimmy's windpipe and his shoulder shook involuntarily.

"You think I have tentacles?" He responded, his face cracking into an amused smile.

That was certainly a new one. While Dean had called him some weird things in the past, presuming his true form was an octopus hybrid had never even been close to being one of them.

"No ... but I bet Lucifer does. It's how he can flap his way into people's heads." Sam declared, throwing his body back purposely this time so he was half laying on and half laying off the bed, his hair flopping about everywhere.

Castiel fought the urge to point out that his sentence made little sense. Octopus certainly didn't flap anywhere. No matter how many arms they had they could not produce the same effects as wings.

"I can assure you he does not."

Sam's shoulders shook for a moment before he shrugged and threw an arm over his face. He closed his eyes briefly underneath it before snapping them back open again and shaking his head, slamming his arm to his side as if to not tempt himself.

Castiel watched him with concern.

" Perhaps you should get some sleep Sam." He injected, his forehead creased. The buzz was still very much there, but he could see the dark circles under Sam's eyes a mile off, he wondered how he was managing to fight against the pull so vigorously.

Sam shook his head again. 

"No." 

He had another few bottles to down before he blanked out and awoke in the morning with no memory of the nightmares Lucifer bestowed upon him. He had made a pact with himself that he would not sleep until the last of the liqueur was gone. He couldn't spend another night going through what he had been. He needed a way to stop the memories once and for all.

He had made a list.

This was his best option.

"You don't have much of a choice." Castiel continued lightly, attempting to get him to sit up so he could move up the bed and rest more adequately. 

"You're bossy."

"I'm an angel of The Lord, I'm allowed to be."

He pouted and Castiel was left trying to figure out what in the world that look meant and why it made him want to hold him and never let him go. In fact he was pretty sure if Sam asked him to do anything with that look on his face he'd do it in a heartbeat.

He briefly wondered if Sam was aware of the power it possessed, and if he was, how often he used it against Dean.

He could imagine a smaller Sam wrapping people around his little finger with it.

"Don't wanna sleep" He confessed, the special frown still firmly in place as he looked up at Castiel with these big eyes. It was almost like he was begging him not to make him do it, like the decision was in Castiel's hands not his own.

"I know, but you require it." The angel replied sadly, knowing all too well just why he was so reluctant. 

He yearned to be able to just switch places with him. 

He'd go though Lucifer's torment a thousand times over if it spared Sam from it.

"Are you my friend Cas?" Sam asked suddenly causing Castiel to frown.

"I thought you said we were family?" He responded confused, a sharp pain shooting across him as he contemplated whether this meant Sam no longer wished him to be considered that. He instantly wanted to know what had he done wrong and how he could make it right. He knew at that very second he would go to the ends of the universe and back if that's what it took.

"Family doesn't always like each other though." Sam explained, obvious to the inner turmoil his question had sent the angel into. " Do you like me?"

"I never used to." Castiel admitted slightly relieved and because really it was no secret. He'd made it crystal clear how he felt about the younger Winchester from the moment they met, but that was a long time ago. He never understood back then why this being of darkness, a human with demonic blood pounding through his veins tried to act like he was anything but a monster.

He had heard exactly who he was, what he was destined to become only to come face to face with this boy who kept pretending to be good. To be someone worthy of a place in Heaven despite what he was made of.

It took Castiel longer than he cared to admit to realise that Sam wasn't playing some sort of game with them. He wasn't trying to trick the angels into accommodating him as they had his brother. He wasn't trying to pretend to be something he was not. He was simply being himself.

He'd accepted the angels saw him as dirt- It bothered him to no end, but he'd accepted it. What he was doing, wasn't to impress them or deceive them, it was genuinely who he was. He knew his faults, knew what everyone expected him to be, but unlike anyone else the angel had met, he refused to be ruled by any of that. He threw out the manuscript, everything that was prophesied to take place, torn up into thousands of little pieces.

All because he did not want to be a monster.

Yes he made mistakes, but he lived by them, didn't try to hide that he screwed up, just tried to make amends in some way.

It had confused Castiel to no end.

The first time they had met, he fought to protect a town full of people whose stories he did not know, he stood up to the beings he'd always believed in and fought tooth and nail for the innocent lives they planned to blow up. That was also the first time Castiel had been taken by surprise by him. He was meant to be twisted, he was meant to care little about anyone, he was to be Lucifer's vessel if he ever got free and his whole life had been shaped by demons in anticipation of this. Yet he fought for humanity.

Time and time again he fought and won.

He proved Castiel's perceptions of the man he was were wrong.

Over and over.

Until Castiel was forced to rethink everything he had come to know.

Dean was the first human that enabled him to express doubt.  
Sam was the second.

When he looked at Sam back then, he saw a deeply flawed creature that was not quite human. He was a killer, a burden to the righteous man, humanities destroyer. He drank demon blood and made his vessel's skin crawl. He was a liar, he was manipulative, he was nothing more than a demon's pet- a vermin of the earth.

Yet as he got pulled deeper into the Winchester's world, he saw so much more. He saw his kindness, he saw his strength, he saw him fight for what was right, he saw his brilliance, the light within his soul. He saw the person he was never destined to be but who he simply was.

The scripts said he was destined for evil, Sam said he had a choice in that.

Sam was what enabled Castiel to truly understand what free will was, and why it was so great.

He was why he was fighting so hard for humanity to be able to keep it.

Now when he looked at him, he still saw the flaws but they weren't the curse he once thought they were, they made him the person Castiel wanted to be around, the person he wanted to help. He had no obligation to this boy, yet he wanted nothing more than to know him, to ensure his light never went out.

"I Know, you made that very clear, I'm an abon'nation." Sam stuttered, his speech slurring. Castiel felt his insides tear apart and he looked down, expecting to see some sort of injury and being deeply puzzled when he was greeted with nothing. It felt like there was something in his gut, twisting away, ripping it apart. There was also something sitting on his chest, making it feel heavy. He had never wanted to turn back time more than in that moment.

Briefly he wondered if this was what true shame felt like, or if Jimmy was just having a heart attack.

"I should never have called you that." He said softly joining Sam on the edge of the bed. Sam sat up to look at him, fighting of a dizzy spell as he tried to focus on the angel's face. Or more the side of his face since Castiel was looking directly at the floor rather than at him.

"S'ok I am one, I-I have demon blood in me, I was manufactured for the devil generations before I even existed. I don't think my body has ever really been mine."

Something about the way he said that made Castiel think that wasn't just the alcohol talking. He glanced to Sam who simply shrugged nonchalantly, like what he said was nothing. Cas couldn't help but wonder if he was truly as drunk as his mannerisms would suggest.

"It has always been yours Sam and as long as you never say yes, it will never be anyone else's. That is why an Angel must ask for consent. We cannot use a human's body as our own, whether they are built for us or not, without the owner's permission. Every soul that is born, has a body that was meant for only them. No matter what is done to it, what its put through, it is theirs unless they say otherwise. It's God's absolute rule."

"But why did he give us that choice?" Sam whispered. He really didn't understand it. If the apocalypse was to always take place, if God had designed it that way, then why did he make it so the angels couldn't just take physical form in whoever they wanted whenever they wanted. Did he truly want to leave the decision up to them, or did he just presume no human would ever take a stand against the angels.

Castiel said nothing for a moment, contemplating how to put into words what he thought about that matter. God himself had never explained the concept to them, it was just written into their programming with no way to override it. Sam didn't seem to mind the pause, he just sat there, right beside him, waiting.

Eventually Castiel turned his head to look at him.

"Honestly, I don't know, God loved humans from the moment of your creation. Lucifer saw you as nothing but these flawed creatures, but our father said those flaws were what made you perfect. The power to make your own choices, whether they were right or wrong, is all he wanted and I guess having your consent is a part of that. For angels, the concept of faulty characteristics being acceptable was not something we- they, ever understood, but God didn't ask for understanding, he just wanted angels to show humanity unconditional love."

"And they didn't." Sam verified, Castiel shook his head. "No, they obeyed, mostly, Lucifer was made an example of when he refused and no one wanted to end up like him. No one really loved humanity like God wanted though, maybe that is why he left. It's only now I can see what he meant by all of it." Castiel exhaled and let himself deflate slightly. He really had become so different from his brothers and sisters. He did not regret any of his choices, but that's what they were, choices, things he should never have been able to access. "Free will is important, it's the most important trait God created in the humans. Free will is what won wars, what started takedowns, what made you all have the ability to survive for thousands of years. If it is a humans choice to say no to an angel, then that's it, they can't take you as a vessel, even in death. Maybe God knew, that one day humanity would have to be protected from us and that was his way of doing it." "We don't need protecting from you though, you're different to them." Sam declared softly. His eyes drooped closed and he let out a long breathe, letting his head roll slightly. He said it with such certainty it made Castiel's insides feel warm, knowing he had earned that absolute trust. "I am, we have that in common Sam, I suppose I'm the angels' abomination." 

"No." Sam said instantly, pausing for a second to take in Castiel's frown. "I don't think you are, I think God made you perfect and all the others were just prototypes. He had to test free will out on someone right?" He continued, knocking into Castiel lightly with his body. The angel knew enough about the hunter by now, to know he was supposed to take it as a gesture.

"I'm far from perfect Sam." he responded, not quite understanding why he could possible think he was.

"You are to me." Sam said quietly, as if it was the truest thing in the world.

Castiel felt his breath hitch in his throat at the pure honesty in that statement. He didn't know how to respond to that, it was almost silent, but said with so much conviction it left no room for argument. Castiel faced forward again, as he tried to steady his ever quickening pulse. When he was sure he had got himself back under control, he turned to talk to Sam once more, but as he did, he felt a weight drop onto his shoulder.

One glance to his right allowed him to see Sam's head leaning against it, having lost the battle to stay awake.

For a moment he froze completely, his insides doing somersaults. He didn't know how this was any different from all the other times Sam slept, but he knew it was. Just the fact Sam had leaned into him, meant the absolute world to him. Not so long ago, he had done something similar at Bobby's, but this felt as if it was something that was under Sam's control, rather than caused by him passing out from exhaustion.

He allowed them to stay like that, unmoving for a few moments as he truly took in the sight, the feelings and everything else. Then he slipped a hand around his waist and went to move him properly onto the bed. As much as it felt right, Sam couldn't sleep like this.

Lowering him onto the mattress, Castiel went to move away, when a hand gripped hold of his coat gently. Castiel expected to see Sam had awoken but was surprised to see he was very much still out of it. He paused in his actions, not knowing what to do, until Sam pulled on him again.

Carefully he sat down on the bed as he always did and wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders. Apparently satisfied, the sleeping man moved further into his embrace, resting his head against Castiel's upper abdomen as he sighed contently.

Castiel made no attempt to move anywhere else again that night.

Not a single cell in his body wanted him to either.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam's sleep was fairly restful that night. Whether it was because of the whiskey, because of how safe he felt or because Lucifer was simply too busy, Cas did not know, he was just so grateful that he only had short bursts of distress for a change.

The angel had counted each passing hour with a growing sense of relief, praying each time Sam began to stir that he would not fight to awaken himself further. For four hours straight he didn't, he made it through without tearing any holes in the fabric which lay beneath his fingertips.

Unfortunately the second the light outside began brightening the room, Sam's body urgently started trying to wake him.

Castiel tried his hardest with soft touches and gentle reassurances to keep him under, but quickly realised his efforts were futile. Sam's mind was already clawing its way back into reality.

The angel presumed it was habit.

The Winchesters' didn't sleep much even when they weren't having night terrors.

He decided in that moment he was going to have talk to them both about that when the apocalypse was over.

It wasn't good for them and as their guardian, he had a duty to make sure they were healthy.

Sam's eyes flickering caused Castiel to loosen his grip around him, preparing to take flight.

The younger Winchester had remained draped in his arms the entire time he was out. His head pressed against the angel's side, crushing his nose slightly. Castiel had tried to move once, worried that the position of Sam's neck would be uncomfortable for him. Sam had refused to allow him to though, more than happy with how things were. Castiel gave up his attempts pretty quickly after that.

He knew better by now than to try and change the man's mind when he had already settled it on something.

Instead he had spent his time acting as Sam's pillow just watching his features, smiling every time the hunter sighed in contentment, or came back from a nightmare and desperately searched for a piece of Castiel's clothing to hold on to. A part of Castiel knew he shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he was, but he couldn't help it.

He just wanted to savor every moment of having Sam in his arms in case it never happened like that again.

He was beginning to understand addiction.

And he was definitely addicted to Sam.

Every single little thing about him, from the way his hair fell into his face, to the soft snores he occasionally gave out.

Castiel just wanted to experience more and more of him. To learn every possible fact about him which didn't come naturally from just being in his presence. Angels learnt the entire lifespan of a human being by just looking at them but with Sam, there was so many different things that his grace left out.

Important things.

His personality and mannerisms were just intoxicating.

It made Castiel never want to leave his side.

He didn't have a choice however and begrudgingly began to move. He found himself hating the uncertainty that alcohol produced.

If he could be sure of what Sam would remember, he would have remained tangled between his limbs. He had no way of knowing though and he most certainly did not want Sam to wake up and end up feeling uncomfortable, to be clueless on how they had gotten to that point.

He wouldn't put him through that, so with great struggle he unbound his wings and took off, leaving a soft cushion in his place.

It was barely a minute later that Sam's eyes darted open.

\------------------------

Castiel was forced to stay away from Sam until nightfall again the next day.

He had gotten word of a religious man shouting about God in Times Square and he had to investigate.

Yet another rumour that went nowhere.

He had watched a man preaching about not letting the devil in for the most part of the day, his hand gripping hold of Dean's amulet, waiting for it to burn hot. It never did and eventually Castiel recognised the hospital tags. He had growled in annoyance, realising in an instant that the man was not speaking on behalf of God at all, but from the mental affliction a demon possession had left him with. He wasn't a messenger, he had just been broken to the point of insanity.

If Castiel was at his full power, he liked to think he would have done something about that. He wasn't however, so he simply left, leaving the man to meet whatever fate that awaited him next.

He had more important things to do than care for one single human...

The guy's speech on consent and body autonomy however had somewhat gotten to him.

By the time he got back to the Winchesters, Dean was already asleep and Sam was sat up in his bed with his laptop open. He was typing away on the keypad, his fingers pressing the buttons far harder than they perhaps needed too, bits of research scattered all around him.

Castiel debated with himself for some time on whether to talk to Sam, or whether to simply stay under his raider until he fell asleep.

He was not proud to admit he took the cowards way out.

He needed to know what the young man remembered of the previous night, needed to talk to him about so many different things but he just couldn't bring himself to form into words what his mind desperately wanted to say.

If he was completely honest, apart of him was afraid of the answers he would receive.

He didn't understand why it was so important to him.

But it was, it so was.

He felt like it could change everything.

Sam stayed up well into the early hours of the morning before he finally gave in and shut the machine down - placing it on the floor along with bits of paper and pens. He looked dejected, just sitting in the darkness staring at the wall in front of him. The wall Castiel stood in front of. If he angel didn't know better, he would have thought he was looking right at him.

Sam eventually opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shook his head and reluctantly laid down.

His actions caused Castiel to frown, he wanted nothing more than to know what was he going to say? And to whom?

He hated being in the dark about it. If something was bothering Sam, he wanted know so he could help.

The man's words hit him again and he unsquinted his eyes in defeat.

He had to accept these things, no matter how much they bugged him.

He had to respect that if Sam wanted him to know, he would come to him about it himself. He couldn't learn through eavesdropping.

He sighed and took a few steps closer to the bed.

Unlike the previous night, it took Sam forever to fall asleep. Three hours to be exact, meaning he would barely get any sleep if he arose with the sunrise again.

Castiel could not understand what was causing him to be so restless. It didn't just seem to be about the nightmares this time. He looked so deeply troubled and upset with himself.

'Stupid.' He had even mumbled once, banging his head against the pillows and throwing an arm over his eyes.

Castiel just wanted to sooth him, to tell him that whatever it was, it was okay - but he knew he couldn't. Knew that Sam would only be embarrassed if he discovered that angel had seen him acting like this.

So he waited.

He took a seat beside him as soon as he was sure it was safe to. Facing him directly rather than sat alongside like he usually did. He felt like he was taking a step back, but the events he had witnessed that day had shown him he couldn't keep acting the way he was. As much as he wanted to help Sam, he couldn't allow himself to be that close to him again without his consent.

The demon's meat suit's words haunting him as he realised he was no better than the creatures they tried to destroy.

Sam had had so much done to him without permission in the past that even if Castiel meant him no harm he couldn't be just another person added to that list.

He would continue to help Sam, but he needed to not cross that line.

Sam needed him to not cross that line.

\--------------------------------------------------

That night brought Sam little peace, Lucifer was not as aggressive as previous encounters but he did not let Sam rest for long.

The fact he was popping in and out concerned Castiel deeply and as soon as dawn broke the angel knew he would have to go and investigate exactly what his wayward brother was up too.

Lucifer being busy for two nights running could only spell trouble for them all.

Sam's face contorted, interrupting Castiel thoughts and forcing him to rub his back gently. Uncertain if even this was okay. He knew he was being of little assistance to Sam and he wanted desperately to get closer to him, to let him know he was there.

He refrained though, reminding himself it was for the best.

That Sam, if he was aware of what he was doing, wouldn't want it any other way.

\---------------------------------------------------

As soon as the sun started to raise Castiel was gone, searching the town's cities, states and everything in-between for clues on what exactly Lucifer was up to.

He discovered a town full of nothing but demons towards the end of the day, but could get no further to fully investigate what was going on.

Lucifer could not be alerted to his presence and he did not have enough strength to smite the entire population which resided there.

From the outskirts he could see gallons of demon blood being transported and frowned. Lucifer's current vessel must have been seriously struggling to contain him for him to require that amount. He found himself becoming apprehensive about what that could mean for Sam and how desperate the devil was set to become.

He stayed on top of the closest mountain, staring down at the town until darkness fell and he had to admit defeat.

He couldn't leave Sam to face a night alone, no matter how much he wished to stay and watch God's favorite.

\----------------------------------------

"It's a what?" He heard Dean say as he landed in the Winchester's motel room, once again hidden from their view.

The righteous man was sat sharpening his knives as Sam surrounded himself in books and case notes.

"It's what Bobby said." The younger Winchester responded with a shrug. Closing one of the books with a thud and placing it into his duffle bag. Castiel couldn't tell if they were getting ready to leave, or to hunt. He hoped it wasn't the latter given Sam's appearance.

"And he's sure?" Dean continued sceptically, making the angel tilt his head in confusion, a part of him wished he had spent more time paying attention to what exactly they were doing in this town for so long, so he could at least be clued in on their conversation. He was still their guardian angel and it was his job to ensure they did not get themselves killed.

"Do you want to call him back and tell him you think he's made a mistake?" Sam responded in a tone Castiel did not recognise. His eyebrows were raised as he held out the phone challengingly.

He wondered briefly why Sam had emphasised the word 'you' and why it caused Dean to shift his attitude in an instant. The older hunter quickly turned down the opportunity and reacted in horror at the very suggestion, his hands held up in surrender.

Castiel decided Sam was being sarcastic in some way but could not fandom how, or why asking for clarification from Bobby was meet with the reaction it was.

Sam just smirked, rubbing at his eyes as his lips morphed into a yawn.

He tried to hide it but Dean noticed anyway.

"Let's just get some sleep and head out tomorrow, see if we can catch the sons of bitches in the act." He decided, abandoning his tools on the floor.

Castiel made a mental note to move them some place safer once they fell asleep.

Dean was cranky enough in the morning's - slicing his foot open would only end up giving everyone a headache.

Sam nodded begrudgingly and headed off to the bathroom.

When the door clicked closed Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"Cas man, I'm trusting you with this one, knock him out if you need to, just let him rest." He prayed, glancing up at the ceiling. The angel shifted awkwardly, feeling slightly guilty for not appearing to him then and there. He however made no attempts to rectify Dean's perception of him, he couldn't risk Sam seeing him. Not yet.Not until he had worked out what he was going to say.

It wasn't long until Sam reappeared and the lights went out. They crawled into their beds almost symmetrically.

Sam was out of it the second his head hit the pillows, barely having enough time to pull the blankets up over his legs.

Castiel made his way over to the mattress edge once he was sure Dean would not notice the dip in the sheets.

He spent the rest of his time there, rubbing Sam's shoulder soothingly throughout.

Lucifer was harsher that night than the two previous but still not completely consistent in his actions.

Sam was jolting himself awake barely three hours later, gasping as he sat up and drew his legs into himself.

Castiel only wished he could allow himself to do more.

\-----------------------------------------------

The angel spent the next day searching the River Nile, hoping for one of God's old communications with the human race to have left some traceable mark, something he could look for in other locations too.

He found none.

He could feel his grace dwindling from the flight and had to conduct his search on foot.

It was tiresome and he found himself loathing his lack of strength.

After a while, he sulkily sank backwards into a tree and pursed his lips, glaring at the water which ran in front of him. Like he was putting all blame for God not being around on its very banks.

He had to wait for longer than he would have liked to return to the Winchesters.

Not having enough energy to fly that far back to them.

It put him in a worse mood.

He wanted to yell up to the heavens for the next millennium.

One look around the room when he eventually landed there, showed him they had successfully killed whatever they were hunting.

The knives and guns were all put away, but the residue was evident all over their clothes. There was ruby's knife with specks of blood still covering it abandoned on the nightstand and fresh bruises on both of their bodies.

Castiel hoped the blade's position was not Dean trying to test his brother's resolve again or he would not be responsible for his actions.

One glance towards Sam made whatever anger he did feel slip away, only for it to be replaced with distress.

He looked like hell.

He was sat shirtless, clutching a tender spot on the back of his head as Dean stitched up a wound on his shoulder blade. His arm was discoloured and seemed to be being held at an awkward angle. By the look of the blooded patch on Dean's neck he had not fared much better either.

Castiel wanted nothing more than to strangle the creature that did that to them.

He could hear them talking but couldn't register what they were saying as he simply stared at the state they were in. That Sam was in.

They didn't seemed to be that concerned, clearly having encountered worse injuries before, but that didn't seem to matter to Castiel's gut that dropped through the floor at the sight of them.

Hunting was dangerous, he knew that, they knew that but it didn't make him despise the creatures of purgatory any less.

It was a good thing they had already taken care of it, for Castiel knew if they hadn't he would have killed what ever was responsible with his bare hands, grace or no grace.

"Keep still!" Dean barked harshly as Sam winced, the needle piercing a particular tender spot on his skin. It took Castiel by surprise. Even though you could still hear a small amount of concern in his tone, it was masked by something else.

The air between them seemed tense and he knew in an instant something must have happened during the hunt.

They were annoyed with each other.

Annoyed with themselves.

He wondered if depositing them on a desert island somewhere would help them settle their issues, or if he'd return to them in an even worse state.

Sam deflated as Dean roughly tied the thread off.

The look Sam got on his face whenever he thought about the nightmares suddenly appeared and Castiel felt his worry deepen.

As Dean stood up and went to the bathroom to clean of, the angel debated whether to just make himself visible. Sam was clearly distressed and he needed someone, even if that someone brought an elephant along with him. Just as he was about approach him, he heard Sam muttering under his breath and frowned. He watched unsettled as Sam's hands started squeezing and rubbing the marks both himself and Castiel had left on his arms. It was almost like he was trying to ground himself.

It was obvious to the angel in that moment that he was struggling to identify what was real again. Sam tightened his arms around himself, like he was trying to conserve heat and that cemented the thoughts in Castiel's mind.

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. He almost did. He was seconds away from raising his arms, when the man started speaking.

"It won't happen again." Sam said softly and Castiel found himself glancing around to see Dean entering the room again. He quickly took a step sideways so he wouldn't walk right through him. He wasn't quite sure what the older Winchester would feel if he did, but he knew he didn't want to find out.

"I need to know you have my back out there." Dean replied, his voice full of exhaustion rather than any sort of malice.

Sam still flinched.

"I do, I do I just..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to explain what ever had taken place.

Castiel found his eyes narrowing between them.

Sam was functioning on little sleep even for a hunter, it didn't surprise the angel that something might have gotten past him, or the better of him if their conditions were anything to go by.

Dean didn't fully understand that because the extent of the problem was being kept from him and he wouldn't ask for details.

And Sam certainly wouldn't volunteer the information.

He wondered what would happen to their relationship if one of them didn't bite the bullet soon.

Maybe his desert island idea wasn't such a bad one after all.

Dean got into bed and turned over, facing away from his brother. S

am stayed sitting on the edge of his mattress, still toying with the skin on his arms. Castiel found himself reaching out, his hands inches away from Sam's own as if to gather them up.

The room fell into silence.

He was just about to grasp hold of them when Sam stopped what he was doing and looked up at the ceiling.

"I can't take much more of this." He barely whispered, as if saying the words were the hardest thing he had ever done. "Please."

Castiel only wished he knew what he was asking for.

\-----------------------------------------

As he suspected, Sam's nightmare's were bad that night.They were not quite like the one that forced Castiel to awaken him from, but he was restless throughout.

Lucifer had obviously found some time to mentally torture him again and was having fine fun with the day's events.

Castiel tried soothing him with the soft circles along his neck, then down his back, then along his shoulder, down his arm, through his hair. Anything. But nothing worked.

He just kept tossing and turning and wincing.

His arm reached out of the bed, like he was trying to grab for Dean, but Dean was too far over to be reached that way.

This went on for about an hour, with his anguish gradually getting worse.

Then everything changed.

"Cas" Sam whimpered and it was if time stood still.

With absolute horror the angel shot back.

Realisation dawning on him faster than anything had before.

Lucifer was using him.

Was hurting Sam in some way with the face he had come to know as Castiel's own.

It made him want to throw up his insides.

His grace ran cold through him.

How could he?

How could he do something like that to him?

He always knew there was the possibility of it happening, but it was another thing entirely to have it confirmed.

Castiel's hand shook against Sam's back. He felt a sensation he'd never experienced behind his eyes, he was fuming behind what words could describe but he felt so much more than just that.

His other hand reached to cover his own mouth, gripping the sides of his face.

Horrified didn't even begin to describe it.

"Sam." He said softly, his face twisted in distress.

He never wanted to be the one to hurt Sam. Even in his dreams. He didn't want Sam's opinion of him to be changed, masked by fear, by the memory of him being his tormenter.

Sam's head turned in his direction, his forehead creased in agony.

It physically pained Castiel to even imagine Sam flinching away from him, of being scared of him - scared his touch would bring on the same effects as whatever Lucifer was putting him through now.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Castiel laid down next to him, wrapping his arms around him.

"I'd never hurt you Sam." He felt himself begging to be believed.

He pressed his forehead to Sam's and willed him to understand that.

Sam tossed in his sleep again.

Turning from laying on his back, onto his side so he was facing Castiel, everything tense and crippling.

"That's not me, I'm right here, I swear I would never harm you in anyway."

Sam's face twisted, his breathing becoming heavy, it looked like there was some sort of internal battle going on within him.

Then slowly he shifted into Castiel and the angel clung tighter, his own breath on Sam's skin.

Sam's hands found his coat and he gripped hold of it, burying into it, moving his face side to side slightly as he did. He seemed to be inhaling the fabric.

"I'm here Sam."

Sam shifted once more, clutching the angel as tight as he possibly could.

Castiel immediately took up his circling again, small, soft, barely there traces down his neck.

For a moment Castiel feared it would make no difference.

Then, ever so slowly, Sam stopped moving altogether, his face visibly relaxing, his grip loosening slightly so it wasn't as desperate but also firmly giving out the message that it was not going to let go.

Castiel could barely breathe as he watched all the boy's feature's soften, it was almost like Sam could suddenly tell he was there, that he was safe.

Suddenly he despised himself for not talking to him when he had the chance. He wondered how aware Sam was of his presence at night, even on a subconscious level.

He never wanted to disappoint him.

As Sam sighed, Castiel made a promise not to hide from him again. He didn't understand his emotions towards him, but he knew now without a flicker of doubt he needed to stop trying to back away from him.

He had to talk to him, he had to explain everything.

He only hoped Sam could make sense of it.

Would allow him to continue to help him in this way.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Dean was the first of the brothers to start to wake up and Castiel found himself unenthusiastic having to untangle his body from Sam's. It wasn't just Cas that was reluctant for him to leave however as Sam immediately began to protest too. It was only when the angel started whispering promises to be back so they could talk, did Sam give up his hold.

Once again Castiel began to wonder what he was aware of in this state.

Did he know what he was reaching out for in his sleep? Or was it just something he found comforting that his mind desperately wanted to cling on to.

Castiel stood beside him and ran a hand gently down the side of his face.

He didn't have time to contemplate the matter further, as Dean began to fully stir.

With a quick glance in his direction, Castiel unfolded his wings and was gone in an instant, hoping the older Winchester was not conscious enough yet to hear the rustle of his descent.

He had left it far too late to leave them.

As Dean sat up and looked around confused, Sam too flickered his eyes open, the flapping of wings having drawn his attention.

"Man what have I told him about watching us sleep." Dean groaned, stretching as he glanced around the room to see if anything was amiss. "Its creepy."

Sam said nothing in response to that, his hand reaching out to touch the still warm spot beside him, a strange look of contemplation on his face.

"Sammy?"

Sam shook his head quickly and ran his hands through his hair. Flashing a smile in Dean's direction to convince him he was fine. He had this really odd feeling though, one he couldn't quite place.

Seemingly satisfied Dean got up and headed to the bathroom.

Sam stayed where he was, his hand coming up to his shoulder to touch the part that unknowingly to him had been covered by Castiel's arm all night. His other hand still touched the sheets. Then he put his hand to his cheek, wondering why his heart was beating so god damn fast and why that part of his skin was tingling.

"I'm losing it." He mumbled, throwing his sheets back, sitting up and tossing his legs over the side of the bed.

He clenched and unclenched his fist a couple of times, his bones protesting as if they have been in use all night.

He looked at them curiously, before shaking his head again, slowly pushing himself to his feet and reaching for a clean t-shirt.

As he pulled the fabric over his head, he couldn't help the small smile which made its way onto his face.

He couldn't explain it, but for some reason he just felt so unbelievable safe.

And a million miles away from Lucifer's hell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't got any more chapter's written in anything other than note form so it maybe a few weeks until i can find some time to write and update again. Thanks again for everyone who's reading :)


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel only stayed away a few hours and he didn't travel far. By the time people began to emerge from their houses he was just a few short miles down the road from the Winchesters. He stood on top of a church building, his body motionless as he watched the town slowly come to life. The bells rang loudly in his ears, people scurried in and out, he could smell the distinctive fumes that hymnals and pews gave out. Still he felt unsettled. He had expected the building to feel more like home. That a place where people came to worship heaven, to communicate with his Lord and Father would have held more of a connection to what he had lost. There was nothing though, he couldn't even feel the protective grace he had become so accustomed to. The cathedral may have been a place of prayer, but there was no one listening on the other end- of that he was sure. 

Castiel began to fear that the other angels really were right in thinking God had abandoned them all a long time ago. That the reality was him leaving them, alone, to do with the earth as they wished. To slaughter, to concur, to rip whatever beauty they found to shreds.

The angel scoffed.

If human beings really were God's favourite then he hated to think what condition the other life forces had been left in. 

Just thinking about the possibility that stopping the apocalypse could really have fallen on just his, the Winchesters and Bobby's shoulders was utterly terrifying.

That, if it was true, he knew without a shadow of a doubt the world would be left with indescribable casualties. 

And that out of the four of them, they would be lucky for even one to survive.

It made him all the more desperate to find him.

To get him to intervene before it was too late.

Castiel squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to picture the hellfire, the state the town he stood in and every one like it would end up in if they could not stop this.

If he could not find God in time.

People gathering in the church yard below him caught his attention and he found himself studying them curiously. They talked about God, their beliefs, the bible's messages, their hopes, their dreams. He curled his lips in distaste, a sudden urge to go down there and tell them all that the divinity they worshiped so hard had sold them out decades before they were even born.

He managed to refrain however- knowing that it would do no good.

Despite how true it was.

Instead, he stayed put and just watched the religious groups beneath him, paying close attention to their mannerisms . He found it fascinating how many expressions could differ from each other, and how many were the exact same just under different features.

He struggled to identify all of their meanings, much to his annoyance. 

He also noted that none of their expressions were quite like Sam's.

His mouth left a gap between his lips when he was thinking. He would swallow hard when he didn't like something, lock his jaw. One eyebrow would often raise above another. He would bow his head and do a little smile when he was embarrassed or heard a compliment. Crinkle his nose when he was confused. He would close his eyes when he felt regret or remorse, like if he stopped seeing the scene in front of him, it would stop existing.

He would show his teeth when it was a real smile. Half his mouth would twitch upwards when he was amused. When he was hurt he would do none of these, his eyes would simply sink into himself. 

These people he was scrutinizing had none of the same quirks as him that the angel could see.

He wondered if they were unique to Sam. 

Closing his eyes as the church bell went off above him once again, he tried desperately to gather his thoughts.

He had to tell Sam what was going on and he had to do it today.

Sam needed him at night, but he could no longer feel right about being there without his knowledge. The events that transpired a few hours ago had shown him just how happy subconscious Sam was with him, but he needed to know how conscious Sam felt too.

And in return, needed Sam to understand what it was he felt for him.

He had never contemplated such things before, no angel had, yet there he was with this desire in his chest that he could not ignore.

He yearned to touch him, to comfort him, to spend more time with them than earth could possibly allow.  
He wanted to know everything about him, make him happy, protect him even if it was at the cost of Castiel's own life.

He had to find a way to tell him all of this, but he still couldn't find the right words. He had learnt that humans misread situations so easily. That language was important so there was no room for misunderstandings. No room for his mistakes.

This knowledge did not make things any easier for him.

He threw his head back and looked to the sky, cursing the heavens for not allowing the angels the ability to understand such things the way people did.

He cared for Sam, but that didn't even begin to describe it. Saying that alone would never communicate his emotions to him.

He needed to think deeper.

He needed to get this right.

\---------------------------------

A part of Castiel wanted to keep himself unperceivable as he headed back to Winchesters' room later that day. He knew however if he did, he would never uncloak himself again, he would simply stand by and watch and come up with a million excuses on why he shouldn't just get on with it.

Taking a deep breath he didn't even need, he removed that hidden varnish surrounding himself and flew to the same spot he had for a number of days now.

He felt nervous.

Uncontrollably nervous.  
It was such an alien feeling for him that he almost wanted to go back to how things were, to a time he didn't express doubt and everything else.

He didn't have that option though.

Even if he did, he wasn't sure he could ever give up what he had gained anyway.

This time as he landed, he wasn't greeted by an empty room or newly injured hunters, it was just Sam, sat on the floor in the far corner. Stacks of paper and books surrounding him, his laptop on his lap and a pen sticking out of his mouth as he chewed on the edges. His eyes shot up the second he heard Castiel's wings.

"Cas hey." He greeted, smiling up at him as he dropped the pen from between his teeth and pushed it out of sight. Castiel couldn't possibly understand what was supposed to be embarrassing about that but he chose not to comment.

Humans.

"Hello Sam..." He replied, taking a couple of steps towards him. He had to sidestep a few stray sheets of paper in the process as to avoid ruining them. The lump on Sam's head had gone down already, still it remained noticeably bruised. "Would the chair not be more comfortable?" He continued, tilting his head to one side as he took in Sam's position with confusion.

Sam gave him a sheepish half smile, trying desperately to gather up some of his research and move them out of the angel's way. He had somehow managed to take up most of the free floor space and was only now realising how much of a mess he had left the room in.

"There's just - more space down here." He explained.

Castiel watched him shovel things into different piles around him with the slightest hint of amusement, wondering why his cheeks were turning an interesting shade of pink from such a menial task. He was starting to find he enjoyed seeing Sam developing that colour, it made him even more aesthetically pleasing and his actions that followed always captivated him.

Oblivious to the angel's thoughts, Sam gathered up a stack of books and swung around to place them to his right. Before Castiel could open his mouth in warning, his shoulder hit the chair behind him and he winced. His hand automatically dropping the collection and grasping over his neck to the point of injury instead. 

He momentarily squeezed his eyes shut before shaking it off. Pretending like it never happened.

Castiel frowned.

"If I could heal you Sam I would." He spoke out, regret evident in his voice.

"My shoulder? How do you even..." Sam trailed off. " Don't worry about it Cas, it's just a scratch I'll be fine." He continued reassuringly, then seemed to realise he had said the 'F' word and ducked his head with a small smile. Castiel returned the expression as Sam glanced back up to him, realising this time much to his pleasure, exactly what the cause of his blush was. 

"I haven't seen you in a few days." Sam eventually said softly, a strange expression falling on his face as he re gathered his books.

Castiel brow creased as he tried to understand why the man suddenly looked so resigned, like he was drawing into himself a little. He didn't realise not coming to talk to him would be an upsetting experience for him.

"My apologies, I was..."

"Oh no! Don't apologise you can't be expected to hang around us all the time. I was just- pointing it out." Sam interrupted as he continued to place things in various piles. Castiel supposed there was a filing system going on somewhere.

He nodded and walked closer, trying to work out what was going on in the younger Winchester's mind. He still sensed embarrassment from him and couldn't quite place the root cause of it. He tended to get over these things a lot faster usually. It didn't make sense for him to be still lingering on something, especially something as ridiculous as eating ink and saying a random word.

He was stood over him now and Sam had to strain his neck to look up at him. Castiel pulled a face, it was so out of the ordinary- Sam was such an exceptionally tall human being that in a vessel the angel was used to looking up at him, not the other way around.

Sam's eyes looked brighter from this angle Castiel decided.

All the same, he asked Jimmy's legs to fold and awkwardly sank to the floor in front of Sam, startling the younger Winchester. 

Sitting on couches or beds was one thing but the floor seemed to involve a lot more movement he soon found. Studying Sam's posture carefully, Castiel attempted to replicate what he was doing and crossed his legs, Sam's hands were full of paper's however so he settled on just placing his own in his lap. He could feel his limbs protesting already.

Sam's smile widened throughout the whole escapade, like he found the situation completely humorous. He would never actually laugh at him though. Castiel realised contentedly that no matter what he did, Sam never laughed at him.

It was kind of nice to know that wasn't going to change any time soon.

Once he was settled, the angel's wings fidgeted on his back, Sam had given him the perfect opening and now he just had to take it.

He took a deep steadying breath, preparing himself.

"You seem less incapacitated than the last time we spoke." He stated, trying to make it seem as casual as possible.

He wasn't sure he succeeded.  
Sam didn't seem to mind the tone though as he ducked his head.

"Y- yeah sorry about that, I'm a sulky drunk."  
"So you do remember?" Castiel's eyes widened in surprise, a small amount of hope flowing through him. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

"Yeah." Sam admitted sheepishly, his hair falling into his face and acting as a blanket over his eyes. He made no attempt to shift it as he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and he gave out a jumpy laugh. "I hadn't really had enough to cause any memory lapses."

Castiel felt his heart soar, so Sam did remember - he remembered saying Castiel was perfect to him, he remembered leaning into him, falling asleep on him. The angel had experienced many Thursdays before, this one was defiantly his favourite. He couldn't help the full toothed grin which overtook his features.

Sam's mind seemed to be on the same wave length as his as he was quickly turning beetroot. His face burned and he squeezed his eyes closed for a second, looking very much like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. Castiel was an angel, what the hell had he been thinking? He even remembered himself-

Sam visibly winced, wondering why on earth Castiel let him get away with it.

Castiel face fell and he found himself scrutinising the man's reaction, wishing for once that he would just speak his mind- he wanted nothing more than to know what internal debate was going on in there. As Sam face turned an unnatural shade and he flinched, Castiel narrowed his eyes, did this mean he regretted what he said?

What joy he did feel slowly disintegrated and he was almost certain he had gotten his answer.

He felt like something inside of him was breaking in two.

"I will pretend I didn't hear any of it then." Castiel replied awkwardly, trying his best to smile but not quite managing it, he looked away, hurt, not ever having experienced the kind of pain he was right now. He could handle the physical, but this was something else.

He didn't understand his feelings for Sam, but he was beginning to.

And this felt like a rejection.

Sam seemed to detect something in his tone and glance towards him confused. The second his eyes landed on the angel he realised how his reaction had probably been taken. He put his head in his hands and rubbed them up and down his face.

"No, I, don't mean.." He paused, closing his fingers together and rubbing his index fingers up and down his nose. "I do think your great Castiel, I just- what I mean is..." He stopped his hand movements and left them covering his mouth for a moment, his thumbs resting on his chin, the tips of his fingers resting on his forehead. Castiel looked at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying but failing miserably.

He briefly wondered if he was human, if he would have had a better chance at following him. If he would have had a better chance at Sam not regretting what he said to him.

"Ah screw it I'm going to hell anyway." Sam mumbled, dropping his hands into his lap and moving his head to look directly into the angels eyes. "Look I meant every word, I do think you're perfect and the reason I'm so embarrassed isn't because of what I did but... because of what I... did." Sam seemed to realise as he was saying it just how little sense that made and wrinkled his forehead. Castiel squinted, trying to understand how on earth there was a difference between those two points. He was somewhat grateful when Sam elaborated. 

"Look, I didn't fall asleep on your shoulder, I was very much awake when I leant into you and I'm sorry and I'm mortified and I really hope that's not why you haven't come by recently because the last thing I wanted was to make you uncomfortable and-" He stopped, not knowing what else to say as he threw his head back against the armrest of the chair. He didn't close his eyes this time though, watching Castiel's reaction carefully.

He enjoyed his company, the things they talked about. It was nice. He just didn't want to ruin things.

Castiel stayed motionless for a moment and Sam feared he was about to fly off.

He didn't however and after what felt like a lifetime to Sam, he slowly blinked, not breaking eye contact as he tried to fight off the laugh. Sam was worried about him being uncomfortable? Now that was rather ironic.

Then the rest of his words sunk in and Castiel couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

"I did not mind that Sam." He said simply, struggling to control all the different emotions he was suddenly feeling. Hope, joy, warmth, happiness, his heart felt like it was swelling.

"No?"  
"No."

The colour soon died down on Sam's face after hearing that and he grinned back at him, his teeth firmly in sight, his cheeks bunched up and crinkles appearing at the side of his eyes. There was still a slight pink tinge to his face but Castiel found himself worshiping it.

"Okay, good, it won't happen again." He tried to reassure brushing the strands of hair out of his face.  
"I would not mind if it did." Cas replied instantly and Sam's smile widened if that was at all possible.

Castiel found himself copying the expression, his grace leaping within him. He wanted to say so much more to him, to explain everything, especially with the renewed hope that Sam would not be repulsed by his actions. That maybe he would want them to do that more often, want Castiel to hold him at night, to offer him that comfort every time he slept.

Sam shuffling through his paperwork again stopped him however.

Perhaps for today, that understanding was enough.

Slowly he reached out, selecting the nearest stray piece of paper.

"What are you working on? As I understood it you had finished the hunt." He asked, glancing down to the words scribbled all over the document, there was so much crossed out it was hard for him to read.

"Yeah, we have, Dean's gone to do one last check, but it's done. That- That's something else." He garbled, grabbing his work out of Castiel's grip and throwing it onto one of the larger heaps.

His sudden switch confused Castiel and he tilted his head. He had thought a change of subject would help the younger Winchester, not insult him somehow.  
"Sam? Did I do something wrong?"

He looked hurt again and Sam cursed himself, he could have handled that so much better. In all honesty there was no reason to hide what he was doing from the angel, especially as they had just cleared the air.

"What? No, N-No, No God no!" he stuttered, gathering up the last shreds of paper. Castiel just watched him waiting for him to perhaps continue, his uncertainty multiplying. 

He wished for once things would be more straight forward.

Sam kept the pages in his hands, twisting the edges and screwing them together as he debated with himself, trying to decide what to do.

"Okay." He eventually settled on.

Gathering up the different piles one by one, he placed them in between himself and Castiel, discarding the books to the side and his laptop to the ground.

" So this is all the research I could find at various libraries on people who have claimed to have seen or spoken to God over the last 500 years. Anything from bush fires to messages in their coffee." He explained and the angel instantly looked down at the heaps of work, the amount of time it must have taken Sam to write it all out astounded him.

Sam's hand landed on the largest of the bunch, the papers covered in scribbles and red marker pens.  
"This is pretty much everything I've gathered from all of that that which is rubbish or I've managed to call bullshit on." He continued, his hand then moving to the much smaller pile, barely a few sheets high. " These are maybes, I-I don't know, they could be genuine. They're worth investigating further anyway. The rest I haven't finished checking yet. I was going to come to you with it when I had finished, didn't want to waste your time till I was sure." He explained apprehensively.

And Castiel was stunned.

Like actually stunned.

For a moment he just stared at Sam, his mouth dropping open slightly.

He couldn't form words as he watched Sam pick the pages up and hold on to them tightly, unsure whether to give them to him or not.

"I mean, obviously you've had way better leads than any of this I-I just thought it was another option, maybe there were similar instances that weren't reported on near these places. Or- or maybe there's someone around who could point us in the right direction. There is actually a priest in... never mind. It was a stupid idea." Sam blabbed on, withdrawing the sheets awkwardly. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Castiel had focused so much time into him that it only seemed right he returned the favour. It wasn't like it was a big deal. He was in libraries all the time, doing a little extra research cost him nothing and he couldn't sleep most nights, it was nice to do something productive with his time. He kind of thought it could be an apology too after the over day, even if that wasn't needed now.

Looking at Castiel at the moment though, he couldn't help but feel he had massively over stepped the mark.

What was a few human stories compared to the knowledge of the angels.

"Have you been working on this every time I've seen you on your computer?" Castiel asked after a moment, reaching over to take the notes out of Sam's hand. He studied the text carefully, by each lead Sam had jotted down comments, tried to make some sort of timeline of God's location.

It made Castiel's stomach flutter.

He really was a genius.

" I wanted to help you." Sam replied, uncertainty written all over his features. When the angel failed to say anything else just continued to stare down at the research, Sam winced for a second time that day and closed his eyes.

He really was an idiot.

Just when he thought he had made things right.

"-Sam."

Castiel didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected that, hadn't prepared himself for that. He defiantly hadn't expected the overwhelming response inside himself. He felt warm, like his grace was flaring within him even more than before. It was leaping and dancing and he felt it in a way he hadn't since his fall.

Sam Winchester was not the boy with the demon blood, but the boy with the kindest heart. Nothing like heaven had once described.

How anyone could think he was meant for the pits was beyond him.

Sam, with everything he was going through was spending every inch of his spare time trying to help him. He showed once again how considerate he was, how compassionate, how utterly different to the angel designed to wear him. He made every inch of him ache with desire to be near him, to be close to him, to be a part of his world. He had lived for so many years but none of them meant anything compared to the moments he spent in his man's company.

He was truly something else.

Sam shifted awkwardly under the angel's gaze and Castiel realised he needed to say something, to explain all that to Sam, to make him understand how much his actions meant to him, how much he meant to him.

He knew so many languages, so many different words with so many different meanings, but not one of them seemed adequate enough to use now.

Not one of them described how special he was to him.

"Thank you." He settled on and before he could second guess himself, he manoeuvred himself so he was on his knees, leaned over and wrapped his arms around Sam, pulling him into a hug.

Sam froze and for a few seconds he just kind of held himself still against the angel stiffly, then slowly he raised a smile and moved his own arms, so they wrapped around him in return.

"You're welcome." He replied, resting his chin on his shoulder.

Castiel could actually feel Sam's heart beating heavy against his chest, and Jimmy's own responding in exactly the same way. He knew from past observations hugs were meant to be kept short, so begrudgingly he went to let go, to pull back, but Sam didn't. Sam kept hold of him, tightening his grip and burying his head in Castiel's neck.

The angel beamed and tightened his own grip in response, his hand finding the back of Sam's neck and rubbing it slightly.

Sam inhaled deeply, his brow creasing as the scent hit him and-

The door unlocking and Dean's voice filling the room caused them to jerk apart.

"Sammy, we got them all and I got pie so pack your bags and..." Dean called out, but paused when he saw the two of them sat in the corner of the room- Castiel's on his knees with his arms half open and Sam cross legged and blushing worse than when Dean had caught him reading his porn mags for the first time. "Do you need me to come back?" He continued, his foot kind of held awkwardly in the air as he turned and pointed at the door.

"Dude, don't be daft we were just-"

"Yeah I really don't want to know what you 'were just'... come to think about it, I don't want the mental images either so- I'll just wait in the car. Don't be long." Letting out a whistle he grabbed his bag of the bed and headed back out of the room, trying his hardest not to look back over to them.

As the door closed again, Sam jumped to his feet and started gathering his stuff up.

Castiel sat still for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened, eventually he got to his feet too.

"Sam?"

"You smell like..." Sam trailed off, shaking his head and turning away, cringing. "I better-" he indicated to the door and Castiel nodded, not quite sure what he was supposed to do now or where Sam was going with his first thought. As Sam busied himself with clothes, he picked up the research he had done on God.

"I will go and investigate this, thank you Sam."

Sam nodded and Castiel unbound his wings, disappearing in an instant.  
Once he was sure he was alone, Sam let out a shaky breath, his hand reaching up to the spot on his neck Cas had rubbed. He knew he should have said something to him but he didn't know how to explain what was going on in his head.

How did he explain to the angel that he smelt like home and safety? Of warmth and comfort and so indescribably familiar. Of cherries and vanilla, of musk and love and gentleness. His touch sending shivers down his spine. It was the first time he had ever been held by the angel, but it felt like it was the most normal thing in the world, like they did it on a daily basis.

He couldn't wrap his head around why it felt the way it did. Or why Cas' smell sent him spiralling into the depths of his mind. His body just wanting to sink into him.

Relax

Sleep

He just felt so comfortable and happy

He was sure Castiel could hear his heart beating out of his ribcage- hell he could hear it.

He had thought he got over his crush on him a long time ago.

His blood rush however proved he was very very wrong on that front.

It wasn't a crush, he was full out head over heels in love.

"I'm so screwed." He groaned, his head falling into his hands again. He glanced back to the spot Castiel stood moments ago and shoot his head. "Definitely going to hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay i said it may take a while, but i wrote this one out in full on the ferry a few weeks ago without realising and had time today to edit it :')
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading!!


	8. Chapter 8

The next time Castiel went to see Sam, he flew into the back seat of the Impala, shuffling in discomfort the second he realised where he was. He knew how much Dean loved the vehicle but it was so confining he could never enjoy it himself.

 

Before he had the chance to say anything, he was almost flung sideways as the car took a drastic turn to the left and then to the right. Castiel remained stock still, his body freezing in an attempt to steady himself. He was not aware that angels could feel sickness, but the bubbling in his gut made that point quite clear. He was almost certain he was going to re decorate the insides of the car if it did not steady soon.

 

Around them he could hear loud horns beeping madly and someone in the opposite lane screaming profanities at Dean. He turned his head to look at them as they passed, wondering if they realised they were well out of the hunters hearing range.

 

Dean seemed to be fighting for control and eventually he won, settling back in the direction he had originally been going in. He gripped harder at the wheel glancing briefly to his side as Sam moved. He let out a curse under his breath, his pulse increasing. Castiel could hear his heart pounding against his ribcage despite Dean showing little distress amongst his features.

 

"Damn it Cas, We've talked about this." The older Winchester growled. He glared into the rear view mirror and Castiel found himself returning the look to the man's reflection.

 

He could hardly help it if Dean was easily distracted.

 

"I allowed you to hear my wings." He replied, tilting his head to one side. This only caused Dean to narrow his eyes further.

 

Castiel really didn't understand what else the man expected of him, if he had wanted to scare him on purpose he would have done a much better job of it than that.

 

"You  allowed me to...?" Dean repeated, trialling of with a roll of his eyes. " Man, the etiquette for knocking is actually waiting for the other person to respond before you pop in, you know, giving them time to actually acknowledge it." He continued, his attention diverting back to the long stretch of darkened road in front of them. The other cars that had been around during the unfortunate incident had all disappeared now, leaving no one else around them.

 

"S-what's going on." Sam mumbled and it was only then that Castiel realised he had been asleep. Dean glared in Castiel's direction, almost silencing him with his eyes before turning his head to his brother.

"Just an animal in the road. Go back to sleep." He said simply, reaching over and turning the radio up ever so slightly. Castiel couldn't help but wonder how more noise was supposed to help with that but he had enough sense to not say a word. He knew if Sam was aware that he was there, then he would snap out of his daze in an instant and he didn't want that.

 

"Kay." His head dropped to the side and he was out again in seconds, surprising the angel. 

Dean gave him a satisfied smirk and drove on a little longer before turning the music back down again.

 

"You're still driving?" Castiel eventually pointed out, his attention staying on the back of Sam's head, trying to work out if he was sleeping as peacefully as he seemed.

 

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed." Dean replied with a roll of his eyes and Castiel frowned, recognising the sarcasm his tone held.

He sat for a moment contemplating the surroundings and then squinted even more.

 

"You're heading in a different direction to earlier?" he stated, confused.

 

"How often do you check on us?" Dean  replied, turning in his seat slightly to look over his shoulder at the angel. When he got no answer he turned back with a shrug, he had long since accepted the dude had some weird radar when it came to knowing what they were up to and for once he couldn't blame it on Sam - Not unless he had been praying in his sleep anyway. He paused for a second and  glanced back to his brother again- eventually deciding that if he had of been, that wouldn't actually surprise him in the slightest.

He quickly looked away and refocused his attention on Cas.

 

 "There's some weird deaths happening down south-  people going on dates and then butchering each other, last couple literally ate each other." He explained. Castiel pulled a face and Dean nodded in agreement, pleased to see a somewhat normal response to something from him. "Gross right- Anyway Bobby's sent some hunters closer to where we were headed to deal with the windigo so we could go investigate... whatever the hells going on down there instead." He continued.

 

"And there were no other hunters closer to there that could have dealt with it themselves?" The angel asked, not entirely sure why the brothers'  felt the need to head back in the same direction they had originally come from, or why they enjoyed spending so much time in such a little space.

 

"Oh no there was, but this is the best way to get Sammy to sleep. Open road, some soft rock, knocks him right out." He clicked his fingers in front of Sam's face as if to prove his point, the hunter didn't so much as flinch.

 

Castiel turned one half of his mouth upwards - It never failed to amaze him just how well the brothers' knew each other.

 

He continued to stare at Sam and Dean cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

 

"Tell you something Cas, there's not a thing about him that I don't know." He continued, his tone changing slightly. Castiel creased his brow and diverted his attention, knowing enough by now to work out when the atmosphere had changed. It was a subtle swing, but there was just something about the way he said it which picked at the back of the angel's neck.

 

"That does not surprise me." He stated and it didn't, Castiel had been watching them for years, Dean had practically raised Sam himself, been his mother and father when John Winchester had fallen into his obsession. Castiel had heard the rumours of him desperately trying to make deals to bring his wife back and when that hadn't worked, sworn revenge on the creatures who took her from them. He had once seen firsthand how far his hatred stemmed. The things he was willing to do just to find the yellow eyed demon.

 

He still remembered the look on his face when he found out about Sam.

 

"So look, level with me. What did I walk in on earlier?" He asked, looking into the mirror again so he could watch the angel's reaction. Whatever reaction he was expecting and he wasn't entirely sure what that was, he didn't get. Castiel didn't even twitch.

  
"Sam gave me research and I hugged him." He replied, his eyes fixing on Dean's. He was about to tell him he needed to watch the road as it was about to come to a bend, but the hunter had already looked away and diverted the car before he could so much as utter the first syllable. Castiel supposed there wasn't a road in the entire country he hadn't driven down at least once.

 

"That's it?"  He continued and Castiel nodded once firmly. Dean scoffed. "Sure... That's why he looked like a tomato."

 

"He was embarrassed." He stated simply, realising it was far more likely that Dean meant the colour of the fruit rather than the actual shape of one.  

"I bet he was... Do me a favour alright, just be straight with him."

 

This time Dean slowed the impala down and turned again to face him. This voice was careful, the words well thought out, rehearsed even.  Castiel frowned.

 

"In what way?" He asked confused.  
  
Dean looked from him, to the steering wheel, to the road and back again. Chewing his tongue as he debated how to explain it.

 

"Let him know your intentions, just be real clear about things. Sam... Sam's not like me, he falls pretty deep."

 

"My intentions are to help him." Castiel replied, his eyes squinted and brow creased. He had thought he had been obvious in his portrayal of that, Sam was certainly aware by now and after his confrontation with Dean the other day, he had thought he would have been too.

 

"Yes, so, just, you know, make sure he knows that it doesn't go any further that that." Dean clarified awkwardly. Clearing his throat at the end and diverting his attention entirely back to the road again, which was narrowing. More and more trees surrounding them.

 

"Than helping him?" Castiel repeated suspiciously, almost raising an eyebrow.

 

"Yes." Dean glanced in Sam's direction again and gave him a soft smile as he fidgeted, watching as he moved so he was leaning facing towards him more, twisted on his side, his arms folded around his middle.

There wasn't a thing in the world he wouldn't do for his little brother and that included this.

 

"Dean, if you're insinuating something just say it." Castiel replied, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head, one eye locked on Dean, the other shifting to Sam, checking his face for any signs of distress, he might not have been showing any yet, but it was bound to come eventually.

 

Dean almost did a double take, but a second look at the angel showed both his eyes facing the same direction and he shook it off. He stayed silent for a moment, indicating left to go down a side road. It was only when the bends and turns of the road evened out a little, he continued.

 

"Right. It's like in soccer." He started and Castiel could already tell this wasn't going to make anything any clearer, he opened his mouth to stop him, but Dean was oblivious."Scoring is second nature to me... I'm always heading to that goal, playing the field. But Sammy, he's more like a goalkeeper than a shooter.  He won't just let anyone past his defence... not that many... players... get to go all the way if you know what I mean. But ... the ones that do, well  It's not so black and white for him. Like...It's not just the straight shooters all the time. I mean he likes to pretend otherwise but I'm his big brother and he's not that great at hiding it."

 

Castiel just blinked, his lip turning up slightly and he squinted once again, his patients wearing a bit thin. One of these days Dean was going to understand that it would save so much time if he just got to the point straight away instead of dancing around it.  
  
"Am I meant to have understood a word of that?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in a very Sam like manner. Dean almost snorted, his little brother really was having a bizarre influence over the angel that once hated him.  
  
"Probably not..." He trailed off, pulling over to the side of the road. When the impala came to a complete stop, he kept the engine running and turned to face the angel completely. As uncomfortable as this made him, Sam needed him to do this - Whether he realised it or not. "Look, Sam has been worshiping angels his whole life and then you turn up and he's back to being a teenage boy crushing on the big dog. Just make it clear things won't be happening in the trouser department and we won't have a problem. Capiche?"

 

He hoped to God the angel got it this time, it was an awkward enough conversation as it was, without having to go into the specifics. He had been somewhat lucky growing up that they were never in one place long enough to warrant him having the ' do not break my brother's heart' conversation with anyone. He had however seen Sam's hilarious cushing's on numerous occasions, which was why he felt this was so necessary now.

  
"What things?"

 

Dean sighed.

 

Why could his brother not pick a nice human for a change.

  
"Any things. You know do it subtly... tell him you're both male, that causes a problem for you doesn't it." Dean continued. When Castiel's expression did not change, Dean slumped,  wiggled his eyebrows and made a hole between his index finger and thumb. He then held up a finger on his free hand and moved it in and out of it, nodding his head, as if that gesture explained everything he wouldn't put into words.

 

Castiel furrowed his brow and Dean sighed.

 

The angel was pretty sure he had seen Dean use that very hand signal at a bar before now but he couldn't quite place it much to his own annoyance.

 

"It does?" He asked carefully, his mind spinning the memories in his head, trying to work out exactly what the context of that gesture was the first time he saw it and why Sam had pulled a face and brushed it off when he had asked.

"Well isn't there some sort of rule about ... That activity. You being the God squad and all."

 

Castiel sat up, his head straightening, he suddenly had a much better idea on where this was going and what exactly Dean was getting at.

  
"Angels are completely indifferent to sexual Orientation." He stated simply, folding his arms across his chest. A part of him was still wondering what Dean's analogies about Sam actually meant, but he pushed those thoughts aside. He remembered now perfectly. Sam telling him he didn't want to know, but him insisting on it anyway. After all, he had stated, if it was a signal that explained a situation, like with the vampire fangs, then he needed to know.

 

_"What if it comes up one day." He had said as Dean had left the bar, his arm swinging over a tall blonde in a short skirt. He had turned and winked at them, laughing as if he knew exactly what he had just done to his brother and Sam had cursed at him._

_Castiel could still see the reluctance as Sam's shoulders slumped, his hand gripping hold of the glass which contained the pint he had been nursing for a while now_.

 

_"You don't want to know." Sam had replied, already pulling out his phone and sending a text to his brother, Castiel could work out just four letters being pressed before he hit send._

_"You said you'd answer anything Sam." Castiel had replied and Sam had cringed. He had wondered at the time, what was so embarrassing and if it was just a case of Dean saying he didn't require a hand with whatever he had found. The girl was completely human after all- he had checked. Still that left him more confused on why Sam would want to hide it._

_"I know I did." Sam admitted, taking a rather large swig of his beer. "Okay, look." He continued, twisting his hand around and wiggling his finger. Castiel had been pleased he knew this one and had leant closer, not feeling the need to point out to the hunter that he could hear him no matter how quietly he spoke. "Basically, it's Dean's way of saying he's off to have sex. You know, the fingers is his..." Sam had looked down, glancing at his crotch and blushing bright red. " ... And the hole is... well you know."_

_Castiel did know, he was very aware of the mechanics of sex and much to what he decided was Sam's relief, he had nodded._

_Sam's phone flashed and Castiel just about caught a glimpse of the 'suck it bitch' which flashed across the screen, before Sam put it away._

 

"What really?" Dean replied, snapping Castiel out of his memory. The hunter looked quite shocked, his neck moving backwards and his face bunching up.

"Yes."

  
"What about the whole' _thou will not lay with a man as he does a_ _woman_ ' Thing?" He asked, genuinely curious. He had spent a lot of time with pastor Jim growing up and although the man was very open minded, hell discovering the supernatural existed kind of made it so you had to be, the rest of the congregation had been more than clear on God's apparent thoughts.

 

Castiel looked incredibly confused, he titled his head to one side and looked at Dean as if he had just announced he was to marry a monkey and spend the rest of his life swinging from trees with only leaves covering his modesty.

 

"When... did you read the bible?" He asked, looking highly suspicious. Dean rolled his eyes.

  
"Off topic don't you think." he bit back, shaking his head.

 

Castiel did not think it was at all, but complied with the unspoken request to drop it.

   
"There are many interpretations for that meaning, God however could not care less where people put their genitals." The angel replied rather begrudgingly, ignoring the noise Dean made at his bluntness. To be honest he actually did really want to know when Dean had sat down and read his father's words,  not entirely convinced he could believe it had happened until he saw it with his own eyes. The older Winchester always did find it harder to believe than his brother. He just couldn't picture him ever having been curious enough to read the passages. Briefly he considered drawing on some of his grace to allow him to just read his mind, Dean probably wouldn't notice if he kept him distracted long enough. "He also stated that people should not mix different clothing substances. I see no one obeying that rule either. That is leather and cotton you're wearing."

 

" Um... yeah... it is." Dean said with a clear of his throat, shifting back around and preparing to pull off back onto the road again. He was slightly restless and tense, not really sure how to take that information. He hadn't thought when he began the conversation that he was telling a sexually indifferent angel that his brother was occasionally like that too.

 

Not that he had a problem with it mind you, it was nice to know Sam might not actually get his heart ripped in two and trampled all over  if he was to ever admit his feelings to the angel.

 

Still he swore if one day he woke up to find two moving bodies in the bed next to him he would not be responsible for his actions.

 

He glanced into his mirrors and pulled off down the road, grateful for having something to distract himself with.  Then ever so slowly he smirked.

 

He could work around this if he got some facts in first.

 

"Hey Cas , since we've talked about knocking etiquette already...let me tell you a little something about socks on doors..."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter typed up while waiting for the asylum tickets to load :') 
> 
> Because i don't think for a second Dean wouldn't pick up on these things. Little hint on what's going to come up in the next chapter too.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel remained in the back seats of the impala for a further 45 minutes listening to Dean explaining the ins and outs of college customs and what clothing was acceptable to hang where. He wasn't entirely sure why he needed to know these things but had assured the man over and over that he got it anyway. Insisted, that he understood should he ever feel like 'unleashing the lion' that it was of the ut most importance that Dean was not in the room at the time.

Castiel repeated the statement more than he cared to remember, with an ever growing sense of annoyance before Dean finally seemed satisfied.

The angel had hoped that would be the end of it.

He had no such luck.

Dean was half way through explaining which porn shows would be the most educational for him, identifying the finer points of sex (should he need it), when Castiel took off.

Sam was sleeping peacefully, Dean was awake and with him, he had no reason to stay.

And quite frankly he couldn't sit through another second of it.

Dean glanced in his rear view mirror and let out a laugh he hadn't managed to summon since his return from hell.

The combined noise of that and Castiel's wings seemed to wake Sam, who glared at his brother with narrow slits, not even bothering to lift his head of the edge of the seat as he spoke, his voice plagued with suspicion.

"What did you just do?"

This only caused Dean to laugh more.

\-----------------------------------

Once Castiel had thought about it more, he realised he had an inkling as to what was behind the killing's the brothers' were investigating. He returned to them once it was light to elucidate this and to assist in tracking down the wayward cupid. That had been hours ago and much to his surprise, they had found that the naked angel in question had little to do with things. Insisting his love was pure and that he did not understand how it could possibly have all gone wrong.

In fact he had been so distraught at the very suggestion Castiel thought he may just kill himself there and then.

The angel had cleared him of any wrongdoings quickly after that and found himself engulfed in an over enthusiastic hug for his troubles.

He found with a shudder, he much preferred Sam's to his.

Now sitting, eating perhaps what was his 70th burger of the day, Castiel watched Sam shifting through police files with curiosity. Every now and then he would depart to get another meet feast and this would be the only time Sam would turn to face him, almost vocalising the question about his his new found hunger. He never said it though and Castiel found himself playing a sort of waiting game, wondering just how long it would take for him to break his silence on the matter.

When he finally did, it wasn't to say what the angel had expected.

"If you take smaller bites they will last longer." Sam stated as Cas placed as much of the burger into his mouth as he could possibly manage. The meat was just so tender, it made his tongue salivate with just a single touch. The bread was so warm and the various toppings made Jimmy's taste buds practically explode in joy. Never before had he realised just how sensational such a human need was, how something as simple as food could bring so much happiness into his life.

Castiel paused and glanced down as his snack before reluctantly pulling it out of his mouth slightly. Despite how much he wanted as much of the mouth watering treat as he could get inside of himat once, the hunter knew more about such practises than him and he supposed it was only right he listened.

Almost begrudgingly he took a smaller bite, chewing slowly to really draw out the flavourings.

Sam gave him a half smile and returned to his reading. He had a piece of tissue paper in his hands and was tearing at the edges as he did, creating a tiny pile of fluff on the floor next to him. As Castiel paid attention to his mannerisms, he found himself frowning, wondering how he hadn't noticed Sam's posture before. He seemed tense, his shoulders rigid, his teeth clenched and he just couldn't keep his fingers still.

"Is something wrong Sam?" He asked, pulling the wrapper on his meal down more and tearing off another chunk of the meat. He chewed noisily as he waited for an answer, he had taken a third bite before Sam seemed to even register he had spoken.

The hunter cleared his throat.  
"No... I'm just can't figure out why a virgin would suddenly want to eat her date."

They fell back into silence.

Castiel threw the last part of the burger into his mouth and vanished again. He was sure had his craving not been so strong he would have called the boy out on his obvious lie. For one thing he was reading the case of the person who ate so much their stomach exploded, not the couple they had originally come here for.

This time when he came back, Sam's thumb nail had found its way into his mouth and he was chomping on it, his bottom teeth hitting it over and over again. Castiel's eyebrows drew together as he unwrapped the sweet tasting mutton and prepared to sink his teeth into yet another piece.

"You seem agitated." The angel stated, the burger hovering just seconds away from his lips. That statement seemed to be more important than taking a mouthful and he had already been told of for speaking with chewed up curd resting on his tongue once. Refraining from eating it was no easy task however. 

Sam sat straighter, pulling his hand away from his face in an instant, like Castiel had just flipped a switch.

  
"Been cooped up for too long." He tried to laugh off but it came out uptight, strained.  
"This is a new motel room, you were out approximately 77 minutes ago." Castiel disclosed, pulling the burger as far into his mouth as it could go. He had spent too long without the juice slithering down his throat and he needed _more_.

"I mean I haven't been for a run in a few days, it's just pent up energy." He tried to clarify, watching Castiel carefully as he devoured more and more of the meat in his hands, almost like he was a starved tiger at a zoo.

"Then go? A clearer mind would aid you more than one filled with _desire_."

Sam's eyes darkened dangerously at that word as Castiel finished the last of his burger and scrunched up the wrapper to toss to the floor. He didn't leave straight away to go and retrieve another however, studying the younger Winchester carefully. Sam's hands had fallen into his lap but one hand gripped the other and squeezed so tightly the angel was sure he was restricting blood flow.  The hunter's top teeth drew over his bottom lip and he bit down, hard, slicing through the skin.

Castiel frowned at his actions.

The second Sam tasted what he had done, he bolted to his feet, charging to one of the bags and pulling out a bottle of water. He practically tore the lid of as he threw the contents into his mouth. Castiel expected him to swallow, he didn't however, he marched over to the window- which was closer than the bathroom and spat the liquid now dyed pink, back out. Trying desperately to wipe away any of the traces of the sickly metal essence from his mouth.

His face was as white as the sheets Castiel was sat on top of.

"Sam?" He said carefully, standing up, his concern outweighing his longing for beef as he took a step towards him, his hand almost reaching out.

Sam shook his head.

He took a step back, shaking his head again and Cas paused in his movements, unsure.

"Sam?" He repeated slower this time, trying to assess exactly what was going on with him.

The hunter seemed to come back to himself and forced his body still.

"I'm fine."

The fingers digging into the hem of his sleeves, suggested otherwise.

Castiel studied him for a moment, his eyes trailing from the top of his head, down to the tips of his toes. He saw past the clothing and concentrated on what his body was doing. His joints were tense, his muscles were in spasm, his toes were curled in on his feet, his heart was pounding, his lungs begging for air, as if Sam was purposely trying not to breathe, taking in only what was necessary for his continued survival every 30 seconds.

His hormones were everywhere, his body being shot full of adrenaline.

Everything was in overdrive.

"I'm going to get Dean." The angel revealed as soon as his eyes travelled back up to Sam's face. Sam however was refusing to look at him and he realised for perhaps the first time today, he had yet to make eye contact with his friend.

"NO..." Sam called out loudly, cursing silently as he realised just how desperate that sounded "I... Cas there is no need." he continued, his voice instantly seizing back under his control. He was trying to be normal, trying to reassure Castiel there was nothing wrong.

If the angel hadn't have known him so well, hadn't have been able to see all the other signs going on inside of him, he may have believed him.

"I think there is."

Sam shook his head in denial, taking a step back again, he released his sleeves and started cracking his knuckles in an effort to distract himself. Castiel found Jimmy's hunger escalating but tried his best to ignore it, now was not the time to head off for a burger.

"No." Sam replied nervously yet determinedly, his breath hitched.

"Why?" Castiel demanded, worry circulating in his gut, because Sam's heart beat was way too high for a human and he still would not look at him. Over his shoulder, at his shoes, at his coat, but not at him.

"BECAUSE...I don't have the fight in me to argue with him right now." The hunter admitted, his shoulders sagging. That might have been the end of it if Castiel could not see it for what it was, a controlled action. He made it sound like there was an issue with Dean, like that was the problem, the thing he couldn't fight, the discussion they had yet to have. His toes were still curled though, the sweat was starting to break on his neck, his lungs were screaming for their host to just breathe normally.

Castiel sighed.

"You're stronger than you think."  
"I'm _really_ not."

Castiel shook his head watching as Sam's hands began to tremble. The hunter gripped them tight, trying to steady them, trying to hide it, but it was too late.  
They both knew he had already seen.

"What is going on?" He demanded, tilting his head to try and catch Sam's eye.

Sam said nothing. He pulled at his shirt, began pacing, Castiel felt his worry deepen.

"Sam! What is wrong?" he tried again, his voice harsher this time. He wanted to reach out, to grab the man, shake him, keep him still, make him look at him.

Castiel could tell from the moment Sam's movement ceased that he wasn't going to like what was to come out his mouth next.

"YOU! You're what's wrong." Sam snapped, his eyes finally rising from the floor, but glaring at Castiel's nose this time rather than into his eyes. Castiel supposed it was at least a slight amount of progress. " You've been bugging the crap out of me. Just GO. Go help Dean find out whatever is going on in this town and leave me alone!"

His tone got harsher, faster as he went on and Castiel paused, rooted to the spot. Sam's hands wouldn't keep still now, snapping, clicking, pulling at his fingers.

"Sam..." Castiel replied drawing out his name quietly, almost pleadingly. But angels didn't plead.

"I SAID GO!" He growled and still, without properly looking at him, he charged forward - literally shoving the angel out of the way as he headed towards the bathroom. Castiel allowed himself to be moved, worried he'd only make things worse if he allowed the hunter to fall. He turned to follow him but before he could even take a step, Sam entered the smaller room and slammed the door closed behind him.

Castiel heard the lock click seconds later.

For a moment he stood still, unsure of what to do. It was if Sam had forgotten he was an angel and could enter the room whether it was bolted or not. He made no attempt to do so however.

If Sam didn't want him there he wasn't about to force his way in.

He didn't know how to take what had just happened. Sam had never, not once given the impression his presence wasn't welcome before. He knew it went so much further than tolerability. Everything about Sam in that moment wasn't Sam. He had seen Sam angry, he had seen him furious, with angels, with monsters, with his own actions and that wasn't his body's chemical reactions, wasn't his features reactions to that emotion.

That wasn't angry Sam.

That was terrified Sam.

He unbound his wings and sensed for Dean, he could hear Sam sinking to the ground now, banging his head repetitively against the door.

He didn't move for a second, contemplating just going in there and taking Sam with him, whether he protested to it or not. The gnawing hunger in his gut stopped him though.

Before he could even register what he was doing, he was gone, straight back to the nearest dinner.

He would go to Dean, they would figure out what was going on, but he needed some supplies first.

\---------------------------------------------

Hearing a rustle of wings that signified Castiel's exit, Sam exhaled hard and folded into himself. He continuously threw his head back against the solid surface of the door behind him and tried to force the bile that was raising back down his throat. Shame, didn't even begin to describe how he felt right now.

He had been doing so well, had finally thought he had gotten his life back on the straight and narrow, or as close to that as a demon blooded hunter fighting the apocalypse could get anyway. He should have known all along it was too good to be true. That God intervening when he did wouldn't give him some sort of free pass.

From the second they stepped foot into the town all he could think about was the blood. Every fibre of his being was craving the sweet, metallic taste and sheer power it brought with it.

And he hated himself for it.

Human blood was different, but whether he liked it or not, his own contained traces of demon's. Tasting the blood when he had bitten his lips set his mind into a spiral. It was so strong, the smell, the taste, his mouth watered and ached for more. He could almost control the lust before, had managed to subdue his desires. But tasting that, experiencing just the trace of the substance he had been so addicted to, had tipped him over the edge.

He wanted, no he needed more.

More and more and more.

His bones were aching, his muscles were so tight and knotted, his cells were crying. He could still taste it, he could hear his own blood pounding through him - it had some of what he needed, but it wasn't nearly enough.

He slammed his head back harder, hoping the pain would null everything else for just a second. That's all he needed, a second to regain control, to force the impulse so far down into his gut he could weigh it there with everything else.

He needed to think about the guilt. Doing what he had before had set Lucifer on the world. Had resulted in the death of so many. He had opened the pits of hell, nearly destroyed his relationship with his brother. All because of the blood, his own weakness'.

If he could push it there, if he could pile it all on, he knew he'd be strong enough to take this, just for a little while longer. Long enough for Dean to figure out the case, kill whatever needed to be killed. He could be locked up again then, thrown into Bobby's panic room and left there until the desire subsided completely.

If it never did, that was fine too, he knew he'd be contained down there. He wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else.

He hit his head harder again, he felt the pain this time, the spot still tender from the last blow. It wasn't enough though and his body shook.

He hadn't wanted Castiel to leave, he had wanted him to stay. If anyone had the ability to keep him from running to the nearest demon it was him. He could physically restrain him if he had to.

He hadn't wanted Castiel gone, but he had to have him gone.

He couldn't be around him while he craved something like this. They had finally gotten to a good place. The angel no longer saw him as just a monster, the scum of the earth that he first did. He refused to let that change, refused to allow Castiel to see how weak and disgusting he really was. To know that he had been right in his assumptions all along.

Even the thought of Castiel looking at him with that level of revolution that his habit brought, made his chest feel like it would snap in two. He was just starting to really believe the angel was as much his friend as he was Dean's. That he cared for him the way he did his brother. He had been so nice to him, so accepting and willing to help recently. He just could not deal with that changing again - any more than he could fight of his bodies desires.

He could not handle the angel seeing him for a second time, as the abomination he was born as.

He wondered how Castiel could even stand to be near him as it was. His soul must have been the most twisted and dark and just pure vile thing he had ever laid eyes on. All he could think about was; Did he have to force himself to be in the same room as Sam? What had even possessed him to even want to hug someone like him? Did it make his skin crawl? Was it because he had fallen from grace? That he felt he was no longer worthy of staying away from the freak which was Sam Winchester?

Sam stopped banging his head and instead, buried it in his hands, digging his nails into his scalp. He had to fight this, he had to stop himself becoming what he was destined to be.

The boy with the demon blood.

The boy with the Demon addiction.

The boy who destroyed the world.

The hunger within him grew and he closed his eyes, squeezing them tight until he saw stars dancing in his blacked out vision. It still wasn't enough, the stars morphed into a sweet flow of red, delicious blood, oozing towards him.

His throat was on fire now.

His grip tightened.

He had to fight this.  
He had to fight this.  
 _He had to fight this._

He could feel sweat forming on his brow, dripping down his face, as it had been his neck since he locked himself in there.

He remembered Dean's expression when he first discovered his addiction, saw him sucking the saccharine blood out of a demons arm's during a hunt. He focused on that with all his might. His disappointment, his disgust, his declaration that he really was a monster, fair game.

He was never sure what changed the man's mind about killing him.

If he had of done, the world would have never gotten to this point.

He drew all the looks he'd ever gotten from Dean and willed them to stay in his mind until the very end. He would not disappoint his brother again now. They were on rocky enough grounds as it was. They wouldn't survive another addiction.

He would not become the monster that hurt all the ones he ever loved. He would not lose his family from his life. Dean, Bobby, Cas, they were all he had left. If he surrendered to this pull, he would never get them back.

If this was God's way of testing if he was worthy of being in their presence, he would prove himself for as long as he could.

If this was Lucifer's way of getting him to say 'yes' he would die before he let that happen.

He would fight this, he would fight it until he had no fight left.

He would not be the one to destroy the world.

The hairs began to stick up on end along his skin, every inch of him pooling with a need so strong - he had never felt anything like it.

He grabbed at the knife he kept in his jeans, pulling it out.

He would fight this.

The pressure in his chest increased, every single cell in him tensing, begging.

He gripped the knife tighter, turning it around so it was resting on top of his leg's femoral artery.

Ready.

Waiting.

He would fight this, he would win.

Or he would die before he even got to his feet.

\-------------------------------------

He didn't know how much time had passed, but suddenly he could hear footsteps entering the motel room behind him. Two sets.

He knew in an instant they weren't Dean or Cas', the footfalls were different, the boots they had on were different, the space between each step, was different. Hell one of them were in high heels.

He felt his body freeze.

His nostrils flared.

His heart beat quicker.

He could smell it - the demon blood.

Just inches away from him.

He jumped to his feet in a panic, backing away from the door as far as he possibly could. Trying to tuck himself against the wall. His eyes were wild, he could hear the blood pumping, louder and louder. His mouth watered to the point it was almost drooling down his chin.

He clutched at the knife, held it in front of him, then almost dropped it in horror.

There was no way he was strong enough to resist his compulsion if it was bleeding out in front of him.

He gulped down the saliva filling his mouth.

His breathing became heavier as they got closer to his prison.

He was in so much trouble. He had locked himself in a room with no exit and he couldn't fight back or he'd be at the mercy of his blood dependence once again.

They rattled the door, he pressed himself against the wall between the shower and sink basin. His hands shook, he dropped the knife. The shaking became harder, more forceful, they knew he was in there now.

Desperately he picked it back up, tucking it into his belt. He wouldn't use it, not even for his own defence, he couldn't. He also couldn't risk losing the one weapon they had against demons in the future.

The door steadied and he prepared himself to charge, to run, he had one chance of getting away and he couldn't blow it.

Within seconds the door hand been kicked off its hinges, pieces of wood scattering across the floor. Sam took a deep breath, then held it as they burst in the room. He could not smell them. Not if he was to survive this.

He lunged forward, as if to rugby tackle them out of the way.

He was strong he could do this...

Unfortunately, they were stronger.

They grabbed him, one arm each and forced him back, pinning him to the ground.

Sam kicked out and caught the male in the stomach, sending him hurtling into the bath.

He took the opportunity while he had it and tackled the woman this time, sending them both into the coffee table in the next room.

The glass shattered into pieces beneath them.

The scent of blood hit him harder than he ever could have prepared himself for, even not breathing didn't stop the taste that sprang to his lips.

He stayed stock still, holding himself above the demon in a suit. His eyes locked on the blood that was dripping all around her.

The sweat on his forehead shone, falling and mixing with the substance beneath him.

It called to him, sang to him like the sweetest, kindest voice, you could ever hear. He reached down, his hand being coated in the substance and he just stared at it, his eyes almost completely black with longing.

His mind screamed at him.

No  
No  
NO.

His body wasn't listening.

He vaguely registered the other demon recovering behind him as he brought his hand to his lips. The second the taste hit him he was gone. Glass in hand, slashing her neck to drink as much as it as he possibly could.

She struggled in protest, he sucked harder.

The male demon grabbed the leg of the broken coffee table, swinging it towards him.

Sam's arm flung out, sending him crashing into a wall before he could even begin to bring it down on him.

He sat there, panting heavy, there was so much blood and he just couldn't stop.

He got his knife back, he needed more access, more blood.

He drew his lips to the newest injury and closed his eyes.

Behind them he saw Bobby, telling him to lose his number, Dean, telling him he was a monster, that he was going to hunt him, Castiel, calling him an abomination, saying he should have let Anna kill him. He saw his dad, saying he should never have let him live past childhood. He saw his mum, wondering why she had ever given her life for him. He saw Jess, backing away in fear. Brady, following her, looking terrified. He saw their disgust, their hatred, them turning their backs on him forever.

He sucked.

A single tear slipping down his cheek.

It was over now.

He was over.


	10. Chapter 10

Sam remembered little of how he got from the motel room to the diner. His instincts were going wild, his body being fuelled by the demon blood and nothing but the demon blood. He was like a gun dog following a scent through the town. They were close and he needed to get to them.

 

Needed more of the sweet liquid dripping down his throat.

 

He thought of nothing else , no one else, just his deepest most toe curling desires.

 

He didn't register stealing a car, knocking someone out or even the looks he got as he charged down the street with blood dripping down his face.

 

Every cell in his body was humming, alive in ways they hadn't been since he had let Lucifer out, months ago.

 

They thanked him for giving in, releasing so many endorphins inside of him it felt like he was floating.

 

Floating in a black fog.

 

When the primal haze eventually lifted,  he was standing in front of the horseman, surprised to find his weakened body in a wheelchair. He looked nothing like War.

Demons were surrounding him like rapid guards. His brother was behind them, being held still by two of the lackeys- the second Dean's eyes landed on him, they widened in horror.

 

He was mouthing, shouting, 'Sammy no'.

 

Sam's insides churned.

 

He wanted to flinch.

 

His eyes watered, but not a single drop fell.

 

His angel  was sat off to the side, hidden in a sea of burgers, desperately devouring them all. He seemed oblivious to everything going on around them, too far gone in his own hunger to even notice Sam's entrance.

 

The hunter  was thankful for that at the very least. Thankful that Castiel wouldn't get to see him like this.

 

Wouldn't see him with his face covered in dried blood, the evidence of his weakness clear to all that looked.

 

He was a monster.

 

A vampire in human form.

 

He heard Dean repeat his statement and his attention drifted back towards the horseman.

 

Famine  was riding towards him now, speaking of the earlier demons he had sent as a snack.

 

A part of Sam, deep at the back of his mind, wanted to lunge at him, scream 'how dare he', fight back against yet another attempt at manipulation.

 

His body however didn't move an inch, his eyes barely even twitched.

 

His mind locked on the horseman's next statement.

 

Offering up the demons in the room as desert.

 

Offering him unlimited blood.

 

Offering him all he could ever wish for.

 

His insides sang, pulled, danced, begged him for more. For him to accept. He was too far gone now, his cells argued, it was pointless to try and fight.

 

He knew in an instant that if he was to do this then that would be it for him, there would be no turning back.

 

He considered for a moment just how long it would take to reach them. Two steps? Maybe Three? Then a swipe of the blade resting in his belt and it would be his.

 

If he could go for an artery, it would practically pool into his mouth.  

 

Three little steps and he got to keep the power inside of him.

 

Forever.

 

He swallowed, his eyes locked on to famine, then they shifted with great force to take in his brother's face.

 

He didn't seem as disgusted as he thought he would, instead he looked worried, worried for himself, worried for the future, worried for what Sam would say... but most importantly- worried for him.

 

Of what would become of him should he say yes.

 

He looked towards Castiel who had managed to tear his attention away from his own hunger long enough to register he was there.

 

Sam closed his eyes.

 

Famine's next words ringing in his ears.

 

He wouldn't die from this.

 

He could have as much as he wanted and he would never die, he was the exception to the rule.

 

His eyes snapped open.

 

The exception.  Always the exception.

 

He was never normal.  Always the freak, the one the grand design could never get to fit in.

 

The hunger clawed at him, begged him, his throat burned as it did in the motel room. His body pleading with him to give in. It wanted more, it needed more. What he had inside of him now,  wasn't enough, no amount of blood would ever be enough.

 

He felt sick.

 

He could still smell it on him, his body was craving it more than anything, it didn't understand why he hadn't taken the steps yet, why he was resisting.

 

He didn't understand it either.

 

All was already lost, so why not just give in?

 

It was practically torture for him standing there when the demons were so close.

 

His body needed the blood like a fish needed water.

 

 _'My body has never been my own.'_ He had once told Castiel and that had never felt truer than it did at this moment in time.  His mind hated his addiction, but his body loved it. He wanted to be as far away from the substance as he possibly could, his body wanted it joined with him for all eternity.

 

It was nothing but a conditioned puppet.

 

Forced when he was just 6 months old to accommodate an addiction which would shape the rest of his life. 

 

"Take them." He was told.

 

His eyes hardened, the glistening tears refusing to fall.

 

"No." he all but spat, surprising even himself.

 

He just about registered Castiel sitting up straighter, his head tilting to the side, his hands clasped on another burger ready to tear it apart, but pausing at those words.

 

He could see Dean's brow crease in confusion, a little hope brightening his eyes.

 

Hope that his brother was still in there.

 

Sam swallowed hard, his heart pounding in protest, his lungs contracting, his liver crying out.

 

He ignored them all, forcing himself with all his might not to give in now.

 

He wasn't attached to any strings.

 

He had a choice, no matter what circumstances had brought them to this point, he still had a choice.

 

Famine said something in response, in disbelief, Sam couldn't hear what.

 

'What was he doing?' Even his brain screamed to him. 'Why was he putting himself through this?'

 

His hunger gnawed at him, his blood boiled, but he pushed it down, pushed it down so deep into his guts it didn't stand a chance of ever coming back up again.

 

He may have been offered all he ever wanted.

 

But he had never wanted this.

 

Before he second guess himself, he flung his arm out, calling upon the power which had become part of him.

 

His body pulsed in protest, unwilling to let the blood go so easily.

 

He didn't care. He summoned whatever strength he had left inside of him and demanded it to do his bidding.

 

He was many things, but for now at least he was still human.

 

And that meant it was his damn body and whether it liked it or not, it was going to do as it was told by him. Not anyone else. Not the demons, not the blood, not its own cravings. But him and him alone.

 

The demons started to raise out of their meet suits and Dean dropped to the floor.

 

They were almost gone when Famine said he'd take them for himself, calling them back. In revulsion the two brother's watched as the horseman's mouth opened and the demonic energy drew into him.

 

Sam guessed everyone had their hunger.

 

With a smile he realised he had just discovered famine's.

 

 He wondered how many of those demons the creature had come to consume over the years and before he could even understand what he was doing,  he gripped his hand tight and pulled with all his might.

 

His body, his choices, his actions.

 

He was weak, but thanks to famine himself he was strong enough for this.

 

Blood trickled down his nose but he forced the power on, it was not allowed to stop. The horseman fought, wriggled, growled, collapsed.  More smoke than Sam had ever seen, exploding out of him, leaving him immobile in the centre of the diner.

 

He didn't move again.

 

And the room fell quiet.

 

After what felt like an eternity, Dean made the first move, he stood up.

His mouth was agape as Sam went to wipe the blood of his face, sniffing in absolute exhaustion. His hands were trembling as the effects of withdrawal already began to settle in.

 

He had used too much.

 

Too much, too quickly, with a purpose his powers were never intended for.

 

Castiel got to his feet and Sam turned his attention to the floor. He didn't deserve to look at either of them, not after what he had done. 

 

He barely noticed Dean pulling the ring off the horseman's finger to far gone in his own shame spiral. 

 

"How did you..." Castiel started but never finished as Dean pocketed the ring and all but charged towards Sam, grabbing hold of his arm, almost like he was worried he was about to shoot off and never return.

 

Sam almost laughed, a sad dejected laugh- He didn't need to worry about that.

 

If he was going to flee, he would have done it with the cubic volume of all the demons in tow.

 

He wasn't going anywhere now except to the place they decided to put him. He wasn't up for his next hit. He knew the consequences of what he had done.

 

"Take us to Bobby's!" Dean demanded, tightening his grip around Sam, as if he expected one hell of a fight. Castiel dropped the remaining burger from his hand, the most unreadable expression on his face as he took in the younger Winchester. Sam didn't even want to think about what he looked like, how repulsive he now was to the angel. He hung his head lower in disgrace.

 

Castiel did not move, tilting his head to look at Dean.

 

"Do you not understand what he just did?" He asked, his eyes wide. Sam winced, all his suspicions being confirmed in an instant. 

 

If he looked at the angel's face, he may have realised it wasn't aversion which lay within it.

 

But he didn't.

 

All he could think about was that Castiel knew without a shadow of a doubt he was a monster now.

 

And that their friendship was over.

 

"Yes I do, now get us the hell to Bobby's." Dean continued, almost frenetic. He reached around , grabbing Sam's other arm too, as if the delay in them moving would somehow snap him into action.

 

Sam closed his eyes, trying to remember the last time  Dean touched him when he wasn't disgusted by him. He needed to remember that, needed to make sure he never forgot it. It would be a long time now before he was touched like that again.

 

That thought hurt more than anything.

 

But he knew he deserved it.

 

Castiel shook his head.

 

"No you don't. He all but killed famine, Dean!" He growled and Sam shrank back, wondering how everything could change so drastically in just a few hours. He wondered if his nightmares would become a part of his everyday life now, his new reality.

 

The panic room was the best place for him he decided.

 

He wouldn't be able to cope with it all without Castiel's assistance.

 

And he had well and truly lost that now.

 

"I saw."

 

"You saw, but you don't comprehend the significance of his actions." Castiel continued, heading towards them, silently begging Sam to make eye contact with him. He got it now, he knew why Sam was acting so strange back at the motel. From the second he realised who was behind all of this, he feared for his friend.  But never, not once, did he imagine it ending like this.

 

He had told Sam he was strong, but he was wrong.

 

Strength didn't even begin to cover this.

 

"Just get us out of here." Dean said again and Castiel relented. He shook his head in annoyance but reached over anyway, touching a hand to Dean's shoulder, then slowly he moved his other hand to Sam's.

 

He tried not to register Sam's flinch as he swore to drill just what Sam had accomplished into the brothers later.

 

\-------------------------

 

The second they landed at Bobby's house, Dean took off, frog marching Sam down the stairs, not even bothering to explain  what was going on to the immobilized hunter who appeared in the doorway at the sound of Castiel's wings. His face was questioning, a frown firmly set in place as he watched one of his surrogate children drag the other to the basement.

 

His lips thinned as he pressed them together and shook his head, it didn't take a genius to work that one out.

 

For a tenth of a second Castiel did nothing but scrutinize them, his mind locked on Sam's expression and complete lack of resistance to any of this.

 

Then he caught himself and charged after Dean, not sparing Bobby a second glance.

 

He even used the stairs instead of his wings for a change. His actions resembling a pissed of human's rather than the indifferent angel he was supposed to be.

 

"Dean stop!" He called out, glaring as Dean threw open the panic room's door. The older hunter ignored him stepping into the iron cell and 'forcing' Sam to lay on the cot which remained in the middle from the last time they were in there. He was already gathering the ropes by the time Castiel managed to reach his side, his trench coat, flapping at his side from the speed in which he moved.

 

"Stop?" Dean asked in bewilderment. His nose creasing upwards. " He's full of demon juice! We need to get this out of his system."

 

He pushed Sam's left wrist to the end of the frame and started wrapping the rope repetitively around it, he shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what the angel had just said to him.

 

"Last time you did this he almost died." Castiel growled, his eyes trailing to Sam's face, who was refusing to look at either of them.

 

 It was like he was completely shutting down.

 

"But he didn't." Dean threw back, tying a knot in his work and heading around to the other side of the cot. Deep down he knew this probably wasn't the best way of dealing with the situation but he didn't know a better way. Castiel hadn't seen Sam being literally thrown around the place the last time they tried to forcefully detox him, his body desperate for blood. Hadn't seen the bruises that he was left with, the cracks in his ribs. He didn't understand it but this was the safest thing for him. The best way to protect him. He had to be tied down here, or God only knew what would become of him. He couldn't control himself in this state.

 

The hunter didn't explain any of that to the angel though, didn't feel he needed to. It wasn't Castiel's place to interfere with the way they did things. He just had to accept that as his brother, he knew what was best for him. 

 

That as the person who raised him, he got to decide what happened to him without question.

 

"Only because he got out and God saved your asses, you won't be that lucky again."  The angel sniped, his face was cold and hard, trying not to give anything away despite the way his insides were twisting.

 

He was never supposed to take a side against Dean, even when he was following orders, they all revolved around him, not his brother and he had never found a need to doubt his decisions where Sam was concerned before. Looking at the younger winchester withering on the bed now though, he couldn't help but do just that.

 

This wasn't right.

 

"Look I don't like this any more than you, but we don't have a choice."

 

As Dean gathered the rope and prepared to move Sam's arm, Castiel watched with a frown as Sam moved his limb to where Dean needed it to be of his own accord. His cheeks were twitching, his hands clenched into fists showing the first rounds of pain had already started to intensify, yet still he did anything  his brother needed him to. Even if it meant keeping what he really needed to himself.

 

Castiel's chest clenched painfully as he watched Sam's eyes become completely unfocused. He just looked so lost, dejected and resigned to his fate no matter what it may be. Beyond all of that though he looked guilty and just so disappointed with himself.The  angel wanted nothing more than to tell him how wrong he was, how he didn't need to feel any of these things, how mind-blowing his actions actually were.

 

Exception to the rules indeed.

 

Now was not the time for that though and he doubted Sam would hear him even if he tried.

 

"This could kill him!" He continued aggravatedly, forcing his attention away from the boy and onto his brother. Dean flinched slightly, but continued what he was doing regardless. It was almost like he was pretending he hadn't heard him, until he all but whispered the next words from his mouth that is.

 

"At least he will die human."

 

Dean closed his eyes as he said it, there was no malice intended there, just a simple statement. Because in the end, thats all that mattered, all that they had been trying to do all these years.

 

Castiel could never comprehend the importance of that. 

 

"DEAN!" Castiel shouted in a rage, shaking his head in horror and trying to reach over to untie the knots at that very second - only to be shoved aggressively away by the hunter.

 

He would never understand.

 

"Layoff! He's my brother, you do not get a say in this." Dean hissed and the angel drew back in disbelief at the tone.

 

Dean worked in silence after that, tying the last knot then moving Sam's arm up and down to test how secure his restraints were. Once he was satisfied that there was no way he could break free of them. He stood up straighter, sighing as he glanced back to the angel guiltily.

 

It wasn't his fault he had no idea what it truly meant to be a partnership like they were. Even Sam knew this was for the best and if he could, Dean was sure he would have communicated that to that angel to.  

 

"Look." He said with a sigh. "I thought you said the archangels would never let our deaths be permanent anyway." He spoke with less bite this time, keeping his hand over the knots and giving his brother's wrist a gentle squeeze.

 

Sam showed no sign of being able to comprehend it.

 

"They won't."

"Then what's the problem?"

 

"He will be in agony. They may bring him back but if he dies in this state, with that much demon blood in him, he'll be heading in one direction and it's not upwards." Castiel snapped, his eyes flaring as he tried to make the hunter understand just what he was signing Sam up for. He wished he could have found a better way of saying that however as he watched Sam flinch. It saddened him to realise that he seemed completely unsurprised by the statement though. As if he never thought he had a place in heaven anyway.  "You really want to put him through that? Put him through hell? Years passed down there before we could get to you! Who knows how long it will take for them to even find Sam." Castiel continued.

 

As if to prove what he was first saying, Sam's fists clenched tight at his sides, his head snapping to the left like he was a rag doll. He made no noise but Castiel could easily recognise by now when he was fighting back a scream.

 

He realised with great sorrow, that he was trying to make this whole thing easier for them.

 

Dean swallowed hard and looked away.

"He will be fine." He assured, but his voice betrayed what he really felt.

 

Patting Sam's arm, Dean took a step back and reached forward, grabbing at the collar of Castiel's trench coat.

 

Pulling him hard, he forced them both towards the door and slammed it closed behind them. His eyes squeezed shut as he used all of his strength to pull the rusting latch across.

 

He hated this.

 

Castiel narrowed his eyes, unsure why he had even allowed himself to be moved.

 

This really wasn't right.

 

As Dean headed to the stairs, Sam scream finally erupted and he paused in his movements, recoiling as his face contorted for just a second.  Castiel turned to face the door, just about hearing Dean apologising under his breath before the man continued up the stairs.

 

"Where are you going?" The angel demanded, not even bothering to look back at him. His attention was entirely focused on trying to see through the door, despite knowing how impossible that actually was, even for him.

 

"To get one very large drink."

 

Castiel felt his temper reach boiling point. He knew Dean was probably finding the whole situation difficult, he knew he didn't want to see his brother in pain, but that didn't excuse his actions. As far as the angel was concerned it didn't matter how hard it was, he didn't get to put Sam through this and just walk away until it was over with.

 

Not again.

 

If he was doing this then he was damn well going to face up to it.

 

With determination Castiel headed to follow him, hell bent on dragging him back down the stairs to sit with Sam, kicking and screaming if he had to.

 

But Sam cried out again and Castiel stopped his movement.

 

Without thinking, he spun on his heels and practically tore the door of its hinges, if Dean couldn't stomach this, if he wanted to just block it out and leave Sam to suffer alone, then he lost the privilege of being the one to decide how this detox went down.

 

His hands were on the knots in seconds.

 

He had made a promise.

 

"Cas... what?" Sam muttered out, he still was purposely not looking at him, but he was lucid enough to realise exactly what the angel was doing. Castiel thanked the heavens for that at least.

 

"I'm not leaving you like this Sam." he stated simply pulling the rope lose, frowning when he noticed the imprints in the making on his skin. Sam must have been yanking his hands like crazy from the second they left to leave such indents so swiftly.

 

"I deserve it..." He mumbled, throwing his head to the side and trying to bite back the scream that erupted at the back of his throat. Everything ached, worse than anything he had ever felt before.  Castiel reached out to touch his head to comfort him, but Sam shied away. "Don't touch me... My soul... no... I'm so disgusting... it's so... disg...please just leave me alone."

 

He tried to fight against it, hold back the whimpers, but pain shot through his body, so hot he thought he was being burnt alive. He fitted, his body raising off the bed, his limbs rigid, his free arm being thrown out and coming down on the metal bar, hard.

 

Castiel drew his lips together and attempted to not let a single emotion pass his face.

 

Sam had enough guilt without thinking he was effecting him in some way too.

 

"You are not disgusting Sam." He tried to reassure once the pain had settled down for a moment and Sam stilled, exhausted and almost falling completely out of it.

 

He didn't look like he believed him and Castiel almost wished he could pretend that was because he hadn't heard him.

 

"Dark... horrible... tainted." He replied, his eyes falling shut. Sweat was pouring down his face now and he bit down hard on his lip, trying to stop himself admitting another sound. He stopped short of splitting the skin again, he couldn't deal with that taste on top of everything else.

 

Castiel made his way over to the other side of the table and with a flick of his hand, the rope dropped to the floor, the human way of doing things just was not quick enough for his liking. He reached his arms around Sam's shoulders and helped him move into a sitting position.

 

"Sam look at me - you are not any of those things." Castiel said softly.

 

 Sam refused his request, his eyes locked on the wall in front of him- If he didn't look, he couldn't see the disappointment, the hatred or anything else that may pass across the angel's face.

 

If he never looked at him again, he could keep his memory of him of when he looked at him with kindness, not with detestation, revolution or whatever else may lay upon it.

 

Castiel sighed and wrapped his arms around him,  pulling him into him as he sat down beside him.

 

If he wouldn't accept the words, he would make him understand with actions.

 

He held him like that for a moment until Sam began to fight. Begging him not to do this to him, to not pretend for his sake, when he knew the truth.

 

Castiel shook his head, he'd had enough of this.

 

Throwing his wings out behind him, he pulled Sam to his feet and all but forced him out of the room, one of Sam's arms draped around his shoulders. Sam tried struggling, tried to dig his heels into the ground, but he was in no position to fight. The second they were clear of the sigils, Castiel span them around to face each other. Placing a hand on Sam's chest as he swayed forward, his limbs unable to support himself.

 

"Sam look at me." He tried again, Sam simply closed his eyes, pressing the lids as tightly closed as he could get them.

 

He didn't have the energy left to even speak.

 

Castiel, exhaled hard in frustration and summoned his grace.

 

Within seconds he took off, carrying the younger Winchester as far away from that room as he could possibly get them.

 

They were going to get this blood out of his system and then they were going to have one seriously long overdue talk.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry *Hides behind a rock*

When Sam next became aware of his surroundings he found he was sat up slightly, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a solid presence behind him. As his senses really started to come back to him, he realised two strong arms were wrapped around his middle and he could just about make out additional legs either side of his own. It was dark out and he was half laying on what he presumed was grass, damp from the cold frosty night.  In front of his eyes were the most gorgeous lights he had ever seen. They were these white swirled lines, like that a kid would draw with sparklers, littered across the sky. Green, purple and blue were also thrown into the mix, creating the warmest, most spectacular glow. The lights were almost dancing around him, bringing with them a pure sense of calmness and ease.

 

If the rest of his time in Bobby's panic room could be spent like this then he had little fear about not being able to cope with the come down and the hallucinations detoxing brought him.

 

He wasn't stupid though.

 

He knew this was the calm before the storm.

 

He looked up further, wanting to take as much of the sight in as possible, he strained his neck back - and came face to face with Castiel who was looking down on him.

 

It was at that moment he realised who all the extra limbs belonged to and he felt his cheeks turn crimson. He looked away quickly, the shame building again.

 

He had forgotten the angel had smuggled him out.

 

He heard Castiel sigh above him and felt him give his middle a gentle squeeze.

 

"You don't have to look at me Sam but I want you to listen." He said carefully. His voice was rough but not nearly as deep as Sam was used to, it held a level of uncertainty within it that he had never heard before. It was like he was mulling over his words carefully, trying to choose exactly the right one before he spoke. " And I want you to see what I see." He paused, moving his head so he was looking up too."The lights, they are quite something aren't they?"

 

Sam frowned, his eyes locked directly in front of him, watching the movement in wonder. Castiel had chosen the perfect spot, on a mountain edge somewhere, free from civilisation with a view of the show no matter where you looked. He just wanted to reach up and touch it and for a moment he imagined just what it would feel like to run his hands through if he did. Would he experience tingling sensations? Would it tickle? Would he even feel anything other than the burning pain inside of him?

 

"They're real?" He asked uncertain, clueless on what was reality and what was just something his own mind was conjuring up.

 

"Yes."

 

Sam's face crinkled and he reached his hand up, trying to touch all the different elements, he wasn't even close to reaching them, his fingers grasping desperately at the air. He felt Castiel shake underneath him, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

 

"They are not tangible Sam, any more than stars are."

 

Sam withdrew his hand with a frown, shaking his head as if to clear the fog from his mind.

 

" Where are we?" He asked, breathlessly. He shivered and Castiel pulled the blanket tighter around him.

 

"Finland." He replied simply.

 

"What?" Sam tried to sit up, tried to push himself away from the angel, but Castiel had much quicker reactions than him. He barely allowed him to move more than a few inches before he gently coaxed him still. The dizzy spell which hit the hunter seconds later soon explained why and Sam fell back against his chest, trying to fight of the feeling of nausea that erupted like larva from the pits of his stomach.

 

"Be still Sam, your body needs to conserve as much of its energy as it can." Castiel said sympathetically, his hands only loosening when he was sure Sam wasn't going to try any sudden movement again. He could still smell the vomit which had resulted from his last attempt on the rocks further down the hill. He had moved them away once he was sure Sam was done hours ago now. He didn't know much about caring for the sick, but even he was certain they did not need to get a whiff of their bodies insides upon waking.

 

"Why are we in Finland?" Sam questioned groggily, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing at his eyes. His stomach felt like it was swimming through the deepest parts of the Mediterranean ocean, banging into as many obstacles as possible in its mission to reach the surface.

 

"I wanted you to see this, the aurora borealis I believe humans call it. It is the most visible here at this time." He answered, shifting slightly so he could study the hunter's reaction. His eyes, while weak and tired, were glistening in appreciation to what he was seeing. A far contrast to pentagram fan which made up the panic room's roof.

 

"It's so beautiful."

 

"Yes."

 

Castiel was unsure if he was referring to the lights or not, but his attention had long since left them, his hands brushing at the flop of sweaty hair which was resting against him. Even in this state, Sam's soul hummed.

 

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked, a frown on his face as his mind tried to come up with its own answer.

 

Even as he fought to stay conscious Castiel could see his eyes rolling slightly  and felt himself deflate in response to this. He had hoped the lucidity would last longer, that Sam would be able to gather some strength prior to the next round hitting him. Before he could say anything further , he felt the pulsing starting back up inside the boy's cells and knew he was minutes away from losing him again.

 

He cursed the blood, there was so much he wanted to say to Sam and it never seemed to give him long enough with him to say it.

 

"Because Sam, you don't deserve to wake up and see a prison."

 

"But I do... I'm a monster... It's where I belong" He spoke quietly, so quietly that had Castiel not been an angel, he wasn't sure he would have been able to hear him. His eyes were downcast now, his mind, or whatever else he was currently seeing, drawing him into the darkest thoughts which plagued him. If Castiel thought shaking him would help, then he would have done just that. He wanted nothing more than him to snap out of that mindset.

 

For good.

 

"No you're not, you are many things Sam Winchester, but a monster is not one of them. You're so good, so exceptional so -"

 

"Oh God." Sam moaned, interrupting him, his face bunching up. Castiel didn't have to see his expression to recognise the distress which was there.  He felt his own forehead crease and he squinted, trying to work out what had caused that reaction. The blood had not picked up its pace enough yet to cause any alteration in his pain levels.

 

"Sam?"

 

"You're not real, this isn't real."

 

He sounded completely heartbroken, like someone had wiped away all traces of happiness from his life. Castiel's stomach twisted painfully and he leant forward, resting his chin on the top of the hunter's head.

 

He vowed to not let another single day pass where he did not tell Sam how he truly saw him, so he would never doubt the words he was hearing again.

 

"I am, I promise you, I'm here with you Sam."

 

"N-o."

 

He could feel Sam's breathing getting deeper, his breathe starting to come out in short puffs, like he was struggling to get enough oxygen into his lungs. He shifted slightly again, pulling Sam up this time to allow for better airflow. Sam's hands started twitching, his eyes rolling, he coughed and foam seeped out of the side of his mouth.

 

"It will pass soon Sam." He all but whispered into his ear, his hand that lay across his left side, drawing tiny circles, as his right braced itself for holding him still. "And I'll still be here."

 

Sam gasped, his arms throwing themselves forwards, then back, to the sides, everywhere, like he was trying to fight something off. His back arched and Castiel allowed it to shift as far as normal moment would tolerate.

 

 He wasn't there to restrain him, he was just the archer, stopping the demonic energy from throwing him off a cliff.

 

 Those words were the last Sam could hear from the angel before his mind was filled with his father's laugh and he started painfully convulsing.

 

\----------------------------

 

When Sam next opened his eyes, his mother was there, the lights making her glow as she stepped towards him, holding her hand out to touch his face. She looked at him with such sincerity, such care as she ran her fingers down his cheek, mouthing 'my baby boy' under her breathe.

 

He called out to her, asked her to hold him, to come back to him, as she took a step away, her hand falling limply at her side.

 

That was when her eyes hardened and he was met with the face of a hunter, rather than the care of a mother cradling her infant.

 

'Why did I save you?' she asked and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to see the woman who had given her life for him sprout out the words he was becoming so accustomed to.

 

He was the mistake.

 

She may have saved him just a few years ago from a poltergeist but she should never have bothered.

 

If she knew what he was set to become she would never have wasted her ability to be corporal on a idler like him.

 

She should have just let him die.

 

The world would have been better off.

 

He was worthless.

 

He ruined Dean's life.

 

Took her caring John away from her.

 

Turned him bitter and hateful, then dared to drink from the very creatures that killed her.

 

Killed them both.

 

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He begged to her as she hissed at him, begged her to believe him, to listen for one second to his side of the story.

 

He had tried to be strong. Fought it as long as he could, he couldn't escape it though. He had tried, but he just couldn't.

 

And he was sorry, he was so so sorry.

 

He hadn't meant for it to end this way.

 

 He attempted over and over to get her to listen, tried to struggle to his feet, not understanding why he couldn't move from the ground.

 

"Sam." Another voice said, but he didn't listen to it as he battled to try and get to her. He was desperate, he wanted to be free, to go to her.

 

He cried out in frustration. His mother was leaving again and he couldn't get his body to cooperate long enough to stop her.

 

She backed away, towards the edge of the mountain top, shaking her head at him in disgust.

 

She didn't want to be near him.

 

His shoulders shook.

 

His chest felt like an elephant had just stomped on it.

 

He had only ever wanted her love.

 

 He tried to reach out, to grab at her, to pull her back, she was to close the rocks and if she didn't stop she would fall. He couldn't be responsible for her death twice.

 

She took a step further and he lunged forward.

 

"Sam!" The voice called out again and a small fraction of his brain told him it belonged to Castiel.

 

He barely acknowledged it, his attention focused on his mother.

 

"Sam." She said only seconds later, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze. She was still wearing the white night dress she died in, the blood there for all to see.

 

He tried not to focus on it.

 

Tried to shut the salivation at just the sight of it, down.

 

"She's not really there." Castiel struggled, tightening his grip with one hand, the other brushing the hair from Sam's forehead, trying to ground him in some way. He knew there wasn't much he could do, not while Sam's body detoxed, but he couldn't watch him suffer like this without at least trying something. 

 

The demonic blood was making Sam strong, stronger than normal, but he was an angel and he was so thankful he still processed the strength to hold him back. His body determined to make him jump off the cliff rather than live without the thing it desired the most.

 

"Why would I forgive you for all you have done?" She continued, stopping short of that very last step as she watched him with not a trace of pity in her eyes.

 

" She's not real Sam."

The woman glared.

 

"Yes I am, you know I am."

 

"Sam focus on me." Castiel shook his shoulder, trying to divert his attention from the blank space he was so enthralled with, trying to break his eye contact with what his mind told him was there.

 

"I can't believe you're the child I gave birth to." Mary continued, her face falling as she placed her hand on her stomach, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret. "The life I could have lead if it wasn't for you."

 

"Whatever she is saying ignore it."

 

"My baby Sam, died the day i did."

 

"She's not there."

 

"Just 6 months old."

 

The voices continued, back and forth, back and forth, until they were speaking at the exact same time.

 

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. Throwing his hands over his ears as he gripped at his head, trying to block them out.

 

He couldn't process this.

Couldn't begin to understand them.

 

They said something else and he pressed harder, their words jumbling together and making little sense to his dehydrated brain.  He didn't know who to focus on, who was really there and who was just a figment of his imagination.

 

A figment of his addiction.

 

"Sam, listen to me."

 

"I died because of you."

 

He tried to wrench himself free from the arms that held him, force himself away. He couldn't cope with this, couldn't , wouldn't, shouldn't, have to. He wanted to run, needed to get as far away from them both as he possibly could.

 

A little distance, a little distance was what he needed, his brain screamed at him, distance from them, from the lights, from the cold, from everything.

 

The arms wouldn't let go though, they were stronger than him and the failing demon blood didn't give him a chance of overpowering them.

 

His mum came forward, leaning into him, her face curled up as she grabbed at him, tried to pull him by the shirt away from the angel.

 

"Just do everyone a favour and end this now."  She practically spat at him and he recoiled backwards and tried harder to escape, he struggled and hit out at the legs beside him, tried to hurl himself away.

 

The hold didn't loosen even a fraction but he just fought more.

 

"Your mother loved you, she wouldn't say anything to hurt you." Castiel tried, running out of ideas on what he could say to get through to him. "She's a hallucination Sam."

 

"He's a hallucination Sam."

 

Sam gripped at his head again, shaking it, side to side, tearing at the roots.  His body was trembling now,  he was just so confused, so out of it, so high. He needed it to end. He needed them both to end.

 

He struggled again, he screamed, he thrashed, he convulsed.

 

Castiel debated moving, laying Sam on the ground and pinning him there, waiting for him to fight it out until he collapsed from his own exhaustion. 

 

"Sam PLEASE, hear me, that is not your mother." Castiel tried again, sounding more desperate than he ever  had before. He didn't know what to do, how to help someone whose own mind was fighting against them.

 

"Don't listen to him Sam, as if an Angel would ever want anything to do with you." Mary persisted, her voice was level, free of any emotion.

 

Sam stopped struggling, his body sinking, he hung his head low, mumbling under his breath.

 

He was just so worn out, he didn't have the energy to try and make sense of what was going on any more.

 

On one hand he could feel Castiel, on the other he could see his mother. They both sounded real.

 

He rocked back and forth

 

If he couldn't rely on his own mind then what could he rely on?

 

"Sam..."

"Sam."

 

"Stop." He whimpered, burying his face in his hands, he just wanted everything to shut down, his sight, his hearing, everything. He'd take a black hole of nothingness over this.

 

He wanted his brother, the real Dean, he wanted to go back to before Jess died and pretend none of this had ever happened.

 

He felt an hand soothingly running up and down his arm and leant into it, begging it to stay with him.

 

His vision blurred and then he saw someone else emerging from the darkness.

 

He whimpered, trying to shut himself off from it all.

 

He couldn't deal with this, he just couldn't deal.

 

He prayed for Castiel, the real one,  to come and save him, not understanding why the presence behind him, gathered him up more, apologising for being powerless to help him in response.

 

He yelled out in fear as a familiar face stepped into his vision and begged his mind to cut him off from all of this.

 

To just let him pass out until it was over.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

Mary was replaced with Dean, then himself as a kid, Lucifer, Michael, Castiel, Bobby, Jess the list went on and on. Throughout it Sam got more and more desperate, he went from angry to distressed, to hyperventilating, to unconscious before the cycle started up all over again.

 

Castiel had never felt so helpless in his life. This wasn't like the nightmares, there was no escaping the images Sam's own mind created he realised in horror.

 

Sam had slipped under again just under an hour ago and had experienced three seizures in that time. Cas hated to admit it but he was getting seriously worried about what long term effects would come from all of this. A human body did not go through what Sam was and come out of it the other end completely unscathed.

 

_'If they came out of it at all.'_ A voice in his mind pointed out. He told it to shut up, that was not something that he was ever going to entertain the idea of.

 

Sam's head moved slowly to the side and the angel tilted his own to watch his eyes flutter open. He braced himself for whatever was about to come next.

 

Sam didn't do anything however. He just stared vacantly out in front of him, not saying or doing a thing. Castiel would have given the world at that moment to have him react to something in some way, just to show he was still there with him.

 

He didn't so much as blink, his eyes almost devoid of any signs of life.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

"You're still here?"

 

Castiel's attention shot downwards as he heard Sam's voice. Daylight was breaking through the clouds by now and the lights that they had come to see were fading. It was the first time he had heard his voice in hours.

 

"Of course, I will not leave you." He stated, loosening his hold. Sam wasn't fighting him and he felt a flutter of hope.

 

"Hallucinations don't usually last." The hunter replied with a scoff, shaking his head but making no attempt to remove himself from the embrace.

 

"Well I will because I'm real."

 

"S'what they all say."

 

"But are they all still here?"

 

Sam paused, looking around the empty area in wonder, it was the first time in a while he hadn't seen another presence with him and it took him a moment to realise he really was alone aside from the angel, the one consistent in all of this.

"No."

 

"Then does that not that tell you all you need to know."

 

Sam was silent for a moment and Castiel began to wonder if he had been lost to his bodies fight once again. Then he groaned and muttered out one single word.

 

"Promise?"

 

Castiel frowned.

 

"Promise what Sam?"

 

"You won't leave me." He replied quietly, not wanting to hope that his friend really was there with him, but being unable to stop the little tingle at the back of his mind.

 

"At this stage, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried." Castiel responded with complete sincerity. He put his hand on Sam's forehead, wincing as he felt the heat radiating from it. He was really starting to burn up.  With a grimace he forced his grace to the surface as a cold breeze. He needed to get that lowered and quickly. 

 

He pulled the blanket of his shoulders with his free hand, keeping the other where it was and admitting as much grace as he could manage.

 

Sam hummed.

 

"Feels nice." He said softly, before drifting off again.

 

Castiel could only plead to the heavens to be allowed to keep this up for as long as Sam needed.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

As the sun reached its peak in the sky,  Sam coughed, a deep body shuddering cough. His throat sounded horse, which was hardly surprising giving how much he had been screaming over the last 24 hours.

 

"Hurts."  He mumbled, twisting his head so his nose was pressed into Castiel's shirt.

 

Castiel gave him a sympathetic grimace, somewhat relieved he didn't seem to be denying his existence again. He rubbed his hand up and down his arm in comfort.

 

"I know."

 

Because really, what else was there to say.

 

His face contorted as he considered the other option. He tried to quash it, knew he shouldn't voice it but Sam's flinching soon left him with no other choice.

 

"I could... lessen it... but I don't think you will be too receptive to that idea." He relented, his face pained at just the proposal. Cold turkey was dangerous but giving Sam demon blood, even in small quantities, wasn't something that particularly appealed to him. He was seriously considering it though, if it helped him survive this, took the agony he was in away, then he would do it.

 

He would do anything for Sam.

 

Even if it went against everything he stood for.

 

"No." Sam replied, almost instantly. Even in his current state, he knew what the angel was implying. He had reluctantly considered it himself on a couple of occasions. He wouldn't do it though, he wanted it out of his system completely, not having more being pumped in.

 

 He wouldn't give in, he wouldn't let his body think pain made him give in.

 

Castiel nodded, he wasn't surprised. 

 

"Okay."

 

"Just like that?" Sam asked confused, if he had the energy, he would have raised an eyebrow. Things were never that straight forward for him.

 

"Of course, it's not my place to ever take consent away from you." Castiel replied softly, he wanted Sam's trust, needed it if he was to ever get him to understand how important he was to him. Tricking him or forcing blood into his system that he didn't want would put him about as far from that scenario as humanly possible. 

 

Sam had so little control over many aspects of his life, he deserved at least one area where he was the driving force.

 

"Huh." Sam muttered, his expression tightening as another wave of pain hit him. He kept his face pressed into Castiel, his hand reaching up to grip at his coat. He didn't care if he was a hallucination or not, he was safe, familiar, comforting and he was going to cling to that with all his might.

 

His hands started to shake again, the tremors making their way slowly up his body.

 

Castiel tightened his grip once more, rubbing soft circles over his stomach as he held him as still as he could, knowing already what was coming next.

 

As anticipated, Sam's eyes rolled back and he was out of it yet again , his body fitting in the angel's arms.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

When he finally stopped shaking, he vomited, foam and blood pooling out of his mouth. Castiel recognised the signs, heard the valve in his stomach releasing the liquid before it emerged and quickly turned Sam's head to the side to stop him from choking. He thanked whatever uncorrupted force that was out there, that the hunter wasn't still tied on his back on that cot. Just the thought of him being completely alone as he drowned himself in his bodies own contents was enough to warrant bile rising in his own mouth.

 

It didn't bear thinking about.

 

The black oozed down his jaws and over Castiel's trench coat as he coughed and coughed and coughed. The angel could do nothing but hold his head to the side, rub circles on his back as he tried to calm him in some way.

 

Reassure him that he was still there, that he wasn't on his own.

 

That he was keeping his promise.

 

Sam's stomach lurched a second, third and then a fourth time and his temperature skyrocketed. His shirt was cacked to his skin, covered in blood stains and whatever other liquids he managed to bring up. Castiel shook his trench coat of when he noticed it. It was now stained with the boy's insides anyway, a little more wouldn't make much difference. Carefully  he wiped it down Sam's front, trying to get as much off of him as he could.

 

It would only distress him further if he could see it.

 

Sam's head fell forward and Castiel's manoeuvred him so it was leaning over his arm . If he was sick again at least it would hit the floor and not them.

 

He wiped the blood from his mouth and conjured a bottle of water, pulling it up to Sam's lips, he had tried to get him to drink a few times previously, but Sam was never in a condition to swallow. His body was beyond craving it now and the angel knew he had to get the fluid into him somehow.

 

Sam half heartedly pushed his arm away, his eyes not even opening.

 

 Castiel was surprised to find he was even conscious.

 

"No." Sam mumbled shaking his head.

 

"It's just water Sam." Castiel said softly, trying to get him to drink it again. Sam shook his head more forcefully this time, his insides churning as he attempted to knock the bottle out of Castiel's hands. His eyes were slits now, but he could see it, he could smell it, the demon blood, swishing side to side in the small container. "I promise you Sam, it is water, I would never give you anything else."

 

Castiel brought the bottle closer, tipped some onto his hand as if to show him the clear liquid. Sam jolted away from it, his face creasing up.

 

Castiel sighed.

 

Then with determination he reached down and tilted Sam's chin so he was looking at him, locking his hand and refusing to let Sam look away. He lifted the bottle to his own lips and took a swig.

 

"See. Just water."

 

Sam crinkled his eyebrows as he watched Castiel down some of the red liquid. His mind swimming as he tried to comprehend what on earth he had just seen. He was fairly certain at this point that the angel was really there with him, that he wasn't a trick,  but he could not understand why he would willingly drink some of that poison- it was everything he wasn't.

 

Castiel let go of Sam's face and put the bottle back in front of him.

"Trust me Sam. However confused you are, trust that I would not lie to you."

 

Sam looked conflicted, terrified even, his pulse was dangerously low and Castiel could hear it slowing down with each moment that passed. He pressed the bottle to Sam's lips again and was relieved when the younger Winchester parted them, allowing him to tip some of the water inside.

 

He was only going to give him a mouthful, worried what too much would do to Sam's over sensitive stomach when it was already so empty. Sam however had other ideas, the instant he swallowed, he raised his hand, wrapping it around Castiel's wrist and hungrily drinking the entire content.

 

Castiel hoped beyond anything else that he wasn't still thinking  of it as blood.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

31...........................32.................................33

 

Castiel pressed his index and middle finger harder into Sam's neck, praying he was just missing beats because of how weak they were. He had been sat monitoring Sam's pulse by hand for 43 minutes and with each new one that passed, one less beat joined the equation.

 

His temperature was over 105 degrees, far too high for a human being to sustain.

 

He could hear his kidney's shutting down, his lungs using less and less of the air space they were normally capable of.

 

28...........................................29..........................................30

 

Castiel slammed his spare hand to the ground, ignoring the crack that splinted along its surface. He had tried everything he knew off to try and help Sam, even the conventional pills the brother's often took when they were unwell, but nothing was affecting him.

 

He just got worse.

 

26...........................................................27...............................................28

 

He laid him flat on the ground and sat hovering over him for a moment before placing his hands in the centre of his chest, willing him to keep on breathing.

 

He pulled at a memory of a show Dean was watching once, kept it at the forecourt of his mind as he tried to gauge the strength he would need.

 

24.....................................................................25......................................................26

 

He pressed down firmly on his chest with the palm of his hands and then let go sharply, before doing it again, counting each one out carefully in his head.

 

 CPR they had called it, a way to pump the blood that Sam desperately needed around the body, to keep oxygen reaching his brain.

 

To keep him alive

 

20.................................................................................21..........................................................................22

 

"Come on Sam." Cas demanded, his actions getting more desperate as he willed him to fight, to not give up.

 

He would not have the boy find out first hand exactly what hell was like.

 

He could already see it, Sam's burning screams, Lucifer standing with a chain, keeping  him down there until he said yes.

 

That thought alone made him press on with more resolve than ever before. He had to save him. He couldn't fail him now.

 

He would not let Sam suffer alone. Not ever.

 

3...............................................................4...................................................................................................5

 

He pressed and he pressed and he pressed..... Until he no longer felt his heart beating off its own accord.

 

He froze, watching as Sam's breathing stopping completely, his liver giving out, his cell tissues slowly breaking apart.

 

"NO."

 

He slammed his fist down on to ground again, the surface beneath him shaking, the trees in the distance rattling.

 

His own breathing became erratic as he looked down at the still, unmoving, unresponsive form of his friend.

 

Pressure mounted at the back of his eyelids as he blinked, his chest tightening, a lump forming at the back of his throat.

 

His mind was screaming at him, telling him to do something, anything, Sam couldn't be lost. Not like this.

 

He carried on the resuscitation procedure, pressing down as hard as he could without breaking through Sam's rib cage, his grace burning through him.

 

He had to do it, he had to save him.

 

He leant forward, opening his mouth, pressing his own lips against Sam's and forcing as much air into his lungs as they could take.

 

Just as he had seen.

 

He bit at his lip as he pulled away, thumping down at a steady beat on Sam's chest.

 

He would do this for the rest of eternity if that was what it took.

 

Sam remained completely unresponsive.

 

Castiel could feel a reaper appearing beside him.

 

He fought on, he wouldn't let him go.

 

He couldn't let him go.

 

An unfamiliar hand touched his shoulder and his stomach lunged.

 

"Step aside Castiel."

 

\------------------------------

 

A few miles down the road, at a lodge overlooking a lake, the guests paused in their movements as the building shook around them.

 

A distinctive 'Sam' echoing through the air.

 

A voice full of anguish.

 

Full of hopelessness

 

Full of despair.

 

Then there was a blinding light, a noise no one could comprehend and the sound of a body hitting the lake from a great height.

 

They shuddered, rushing out to see what on earth was going on.

 

They were greeted by nothing but silence.

 

Not a single disturbance left in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind rock*  
> *Bribes with cookies*  
> *Hides again*


	12. Chapter 12

He could smell vomit, that was the first thing that Sam registered as he began to regain consciousness. There was also a rusty tinge to the air, like raw iron mixed with earth. His mouth watered and he knew in a heartbeat he was inhaling fresh blood.

 

For a moment that was all be managed to comprehend, his other senses  completely void, shutdown as if they had never worked at all. He felt empty, lost, like he didn't belong anywhere on earth. He couldn't hear, he couldn't see, he couldn't feel. He wasn't even aware of where his own hands lay.

 

He felt terror ripple through him.

 

Where was he? 

 

_What on earth had happened?_

 

He couldn't come up with an answer. His mind like a blank canvas someone had been holding a paintbrush to for hours.

 

He wasn't even sure if he was still breathing. 

 

He wanted to gasp, to strike out, to fight, but it was like he was paralyzed, nothing responding to his commands despite how hard he screamed them.

 

His fingers would not move, his toes would not wriggle, he didn't even know where his knees began.

 

Were they below him? Above? Was he laying flat or strung of a ceiling?

 

He didn't know.

 

And it was petrifying. 

 

Then slowly he realised his limbs were starting to ache.

 

They were numb at first, but then they throbbed, a terrible pulsing which made him wish he could go back to feeling nothing at all.

 

The more he focused on it, the worst it got until suddenly this burning pain traveled through every inch of him, bringing it all back to life in the worst possible way.

 

It wasn't a pain he was familiar with either- he had broken bones before, torn tendons, you name it, he'd done it - or had it done to him. This was different however, this was raw, almost settled into his very being. It didn't have an exact area it could be pinpointed to, it was just everywhere, engulfing his very soul.

 

And God it  _hurt._

He shifted, as if the action alone would push his pain threshold into overdrive.

 

It didn't work, did nothing to lessen the sting. It just caused his insides to seize, making him feel like he had just been stood at the bottom of a volcano as it erupted.

 

His body incinerated in one agonising blast.

 

He tried to let out a groan but he couldn't even part his lips. He swallowed hard in frustration but he instantly regretted it. For the second he did, the taste of bile residue hit the back of his throat along with the oh so familiar copper tang that his body desired more than anything.

 

His stomach churned.

 

His head, almost exploding from the built up pressure within it, all his senses coming back in one foul swoop.

 

He shivered and it was only then he registered how cold he was.  

 

Except cold didn't even begin to describe the feeling - he was freezing, suffering from the kind of chill that travelled right down to your bones, lingering there, convincing you that warmth was just a distant memory and would forever remain that way.

 

His teeth chattered.

 

He was wet, he realised, his clothes sticking to his skin, causing him to tremor more.

 

He still couldn't hear a single sound, not even that of his own heart beating.

 

He felt panic seize him.

 

He wasn't in Bobby's house, he wasn't in Castiel's arms, so where was he?

 

Slowly, he forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.

 

He felt roughness against his cheek and craned his neck, taking a look at the hard, soiled floor he lay against.

 

It was mud and stones.

 

He curled his fingers and felt the grass beneath them.

 

He blinked more, shaking his head as he put his arms out behind him and half pulled himself up to look around.

 

Confusion rippled through him as he took in the sight he thought his hallucinations had bestowed on him. The mountains, the drop, the sky- They were all still there. It hadn't just been a mirage after all.

 

But then, where was Castiel?

 

He sat up more, more frightened than he cared to admit.

 

His back cried out in protest, his muscles smouldering, tightening, begging him to stop.

 

He tried his best to ignore them.

 

He realised slowly that the weight across his stomach didn't shift and he turned his attention to it, his body sagging in relief when he caught sight of the arm draped across him and the angel it belonged to.

 

Coatless, but still very much there.

 

His relief was short lived when he realised Castiel wasn't moving, laying face down in the dirt.

 

Sitting up straighter he reached over and shook his shoulder.

 

"Cas?" He asked softly, his stomach filling with dread. The angel didn't respond and Sam shook harder, desperately looking around, trying to figure out if there was anyone around to help.

 

Who did you even go to when greeted with an unconscious angel?

 

He had a feeling the lord wasn't an option.

 

His chest clenched as he desperately tried to figure out what had happened. The last thing he remembered was... well he didn't even know the answer to that. He could picture Cas and lights and pain, but nothing specific, nothing that felt like a proper memory.

 

It was all just a blur.

 

His hands shook and he gripped at them, trying to steady them.

 

He felt the anxiety build with in him and tried to take deep calming breaths. This wasn't the time for that. He needed to get them out of there, preferable to somewhere warm and dry.

 

He could be weak later. He needed to act now.

 

His limbs screamed as he tried to move, the seizures having tightened every single muscle inside of him, rendering them that of an impromptu marathon runner, hours after he bowed out of his race.

 

He hissed and tried to ignore the protests.

 

Castiel was more important right now, no matter how drained he felt.

 

Looking up at the brightened sky, he realised with a start he had no idea how long they had even been there for.

 

If Dean even knew where he had gone, where to send the help too.

 

He winced and rolled Castiel over, shakily checking for a pulse and releasing a shuddering breath when he felt one.

 

At least he was alive.

 

But angels still didn't sleep.

 

So what on earth had put him in such a state?

 

"Cas?"  He tried again, his voice hoarse and croaking. "Cas wake up?"

 

He didn't and Sam shivered more.

 

He saw the trench coat discarded to the side and quickly reached out to it, pulling it on, ignoring the smell.

 

It was easily too small for him, but it provided at least some protection, a chance to capture the smallest amount of warmth.

And he really needed warmth right now.

 

He glanced around, tearing at his brain to come up with a solution, his hand gripping onto Castiel's shoulder.

 

He was better than this, he had survived worse.

 

"Help!" He tried to shout out, but nothing above a squeak came out. He hit the floor in exasperation, his panic flaring up again.

 

 _'You're a hunter act like one.'_  He scolded himself, but his mind just wouldn't co operate. It had gone through far too much to function on an ordinary level, it was wanting to shut down, to switch off just as much as the rest of his body was.

 

He cleared his throat, as if it would somehow clear it too.

 

"Castiel? Can you hear me?" He tried again, nudging him gently, his head hanging in the air in defeat when the angel didn't move an inch.

 

 _'Think, think, think_ ' He demanded, trying to force ideas to the forecourt of his mind.

 

None came.

 

He heard footsteps approaching to his left, up what he presumed was the side of the mountain and slowly pushed himself to his knees, desperately looking around for something he could use as a weapon.

 

He wasn't sure what to do, should he attempt to run? Should he start throwing stones?

 

_Was there even anyone really there?_

 

He froze, unsettled, his breath catching in his throat.

 

He'd seen so much that wasn't real over the last day or so, so how could he be sure any of this was actually happening now?

 

He sucked in as much air as his lungs would allow, his eyes widening.

 

He looked down at the angel, wondering if he was clutching some sort of scarecrow and his brain was just refusing to let him see it.

 

He swallowed hard.

 

Now was not the time for such doubts.

 

"Hei!"  He heard someone call out and he trailed his eyes over to the general direction it had come from, a vacant stare drawing upon them.

 

He wiped at his mouth, his mind screaming at him to act, to come to a decision.

 

Any decision.

 

_Was someone there or not??_

 

"Hello?" He attempted with a struggle, his vocal cords straining under the pressure he put them under.

 

 He rubbed his hands together, trying to create some sort of sensation.

 

He barely felt a thing, his nerve endings just not functioning the way they were supposed to. Either that or his brain just wasn't receiving the signals they were giving out.

 

He wondered briefly if the blood binge had ended up damaging him beyond repair.

 

He locked his jaw as the footsteps got closer and tried frantically to work out how many footfalls were taking place.

 

Five? Six?

 

Did that make it more than one human or some sort of deformed werewolf?

 

He backed away, his hand reaching for Castiel as if to pull him with him.

 

What if it was demons sent to hurl him back onto the dark path they all wanted for him? Or vampires determined to make him one of their own? He was after all, already half way there.

 

Rough voices filled the air and his breathing escalated.

 

He didn't have a clue what the correct answer to any of this was.

 

 _'' Is this real or not?'_ His mind screamed at him, begged at him to respond.

 

He was a hunter, he was trained for this.

 

He should have been able to work it out!

 

He watched as three head's appeared at grass level, slowly raising as the bodies they were attached to climbed with them. They looked like trekkers, all kitted out in thick coats, boots and backpacks.

 

_Was that something that would be normal here?_

 

He swallowed again, his eyes dilating.

 

_Was it a trick?_

_Were they really there?_

_Was he even really there?_

 

" Mitä teet täällä valmistautumaton." One of the men spoke, pulling himself up onto the flat with his hiking stick.

 

Sam pulled a face, searching his brain for any sort of translation. Castiel had said they were where again? He couldn't remember and he sure as hell didn't have a clue what the newcomer had just asked. If he had asked anything at all.

 

He wondered if that was a sign, if he didn't know a language he couldn't hallucinate the words surely.

 

He felt something drip down his face and slowly reached up to wipe it away.

 

He held his hand in front of him when he was done, staring at the liquid hungrily as his mind registered what it was.

 

He gawped at it, barely paying the men any sort of attention now.

 

His eyes were fixated.

 

He inhaled the scent, bring it up to his lips.

 

Then his stomach heaved and he quickly threw his arm to his side, bringing his other hand up to cover his mouth.

 

He didn't want that, not again, not ever again.

 

The men frowned and exchanged glances, worry for his state of mind truly settling in.

 

Sam shivered more, eyes widening again as he realised just how stained his clothes were. If these people really were there then they were bound to think he had just been on a killing spree.

 

He was going to get thrown in a cell, ripped away from Castiel and having no means of ever contacting him again.

 

He looked back at them in a panic, wondering if he needed to defend himself.

 

To try and come off like he was in control of his own mentality and not a psychiatric patient on the loose.

 

He didn't want to get locked away.

 

Not again, not when he had just escaped the panic room.

 

They said something else and he closed his eyes.

 

He didn't know the language, he didn't know them- so they had to be real, they just had to be.

 

Right?

 

He hoped more than anything that was true.

 

They took an attentive step towards him and he backed off again, his back hitting something solid behind him.

 

He span around and glanced up, realising for the first time that Castiel had brought them to a ledge rather than the tipping point and that the mountain continued upwards.

 

He looked back towards them and tried to at least appear to calm himself down.

 

He had to pretend they were real, he told himself, just incase they really were.

 

Slowly he pointed.

 

"We fell!" He said. He dropped his hand, then pointed up again and dropped it back down, gesturing to himself and then to Castiel.

 

" Sinä putosi ? Sinä putosi alkaen kalliolta?" The man asked, looking upwards. Sam took a shot and nodded, putting on what Dean would call his best puppy dog look. If he looked harmless maybe they wouldn't think of them as murders.

 

Wouldn't feel the need to call the police.

 

He was just a little spaced out from the high altitude sickness. That was all. 

 

He tried his best for that to come across in his expression.

 

"Can you help us?" He said carefully, placing a hand on Castiel and trying to convey his worry.

 

He prayed with every fibre of his being that he was doing the right thing, that he wasn't staring into the hungry eyes of wolves or something equally dangerous.

 

He cursed at his brain, of all the times for it to fail him, it had to be now.

 

When Castiel needed him the most.

 

" Te kaksi saadapieni , otamme ne takaisin alas." The man said to his two comrades and the boys nodded, stepping towards the angel. When they reached him they leant down to lift him, only for Sam to hold his hand out, unsure of their intentions.

 

He couldn't let any harm come to his friend because his brain was too fried to work out if they were holding knives.

 

"Christo." He mumbled under his breath, his eyes darting between the three of them, trying to pick up on any signs of flinching, any blackness, any... anything.

 

He dropped his hand reluctantly when he saw nothing.

 

"I'm Emmet. We, help, you." One of them spoke brokenly, nodding in reassurance and placing his hand across his chest, as if trying to convey his sincerity.

 

"Sam." The hunter replied hesitantly, slowly getting to his feet as they examined Castiel.

 

His legs burned and he almost fell forward but he caught himself just in time, refusing to show weakness in front of what could be the enemy. He watched the duo suspiciously, trying to keep an eye out for any claws miraculously appearing.

 

It didn't hurt to be overly cautious.

 

Bobby had taught him that.

 

The men started checking Castiel's  neck, running their hands down his back, possibly searching for lumps, bumps or open lacerations. Sam didn't know and he didn't think to ask.

 

Seemingly satisfied with whatever they didn't find, they slowly lifted him up, hanging his arms over their shoulders.

 

He was too big of a guy for them to actually carry.

 

"We have lodge, down there." The man continued as they started to walk forward, gesturing for Sam to follow them.

 

Sam nodded to show his understanding and trailed unsteadily after them, trying to ignore the pain that was shooting through his bones. They still weren't happy with his movements, to strained and lacking any sort of energy source to do what was required of them.

 

He willed them to just last a little bit longer.

 

Just until he could be sure Cas was safe.

 

" Emmet, Kysy häneltä , jos oli joku muu heidän kanssaan?" One of the men who was carrying Castiel spoke to the one who had introduced himself, who nodded and turned his head back to Sam.

 

"Did you have a second friend?" He asked, pointing over the ledge they were walking away from.

 

Sam creased his forehead and frowned.

 

"No? No it was just us."

 

At least he was _pretty sure_ it was just them anyway.

 

Dean definitely hadn't been there and he doubted Castiel would have brought anyone else along.

 

The English speaker seemingly translated this back to the others who started a discussion Sam didn't even try to follow. He hugged his arms around his middle instead, grateful, when the leader put his own arm out to help him in their descent.

 

The touch to his elbow seemed to clear his mind slightly and he found his concern wavering.

 

Hallucinations didn't tend to have the ability to actually support your weight.

 

And monster's sure as hell didn't want to help you.

 

His body shivered violently as he walked on, a dizzy spell hitting him full force.

 

Vertical stance defiantly wasn't his friend anymore, he decided.

 

Still he refused to give in to it, his eyes locked on Castiel's lip form.

 

He had to stay awake.

 

For him.

 

No matter what the consequences were.

 


	13. Chater 13

The walk down the mountain side was nothing but a haze for Sam. 

Time seemed to stop, he couldn't focus on seconds, let alone minutes or hours.

He could see the green grass, the muddy slopes, the rocks and stones, but his mind wouldn't pick out any of the smaller details. He couldn't tell how far away things were, nothing got closer or got left in the distance- it was just the same unchanging image in front of his eyes. 

Blurry and swaying, like he had just been on a bender. 

His feet were moving, he knew that, he could see his shoes going backwards and forwards, the left than the right, but he had no awareness of actually taking those steps himself.

It was a bizarre thing to realise.

It was like he was on auto-pilot, his brain taking over because his mind just couldn't cope.

If it had been anyone else, they would have surely passed out by now, but Sam's body was conditioned long ago to have to work through pain. That was his habit, so it adapted to it, learnt how to deal when he couldn't. It had to keep going, keep walking, until he deemed it safe enough to not. There wasn't any other option. That was just how it was.

The next thing Sam really knew was he was sitting in the backseats of a jeep. The leader, Gideon he had learnt, stepping out of his line of sight and into the blackened fog which seemed to be engulfing his vision.

He shook his head and blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the darkness and catch up with what his eyes were seeing. 

He was in a car? How? He didn't even remember sitting down. 

One minute he was walking in a mist, the next he was just sort of ... there. 

He brushed his sticky hair from his face and clenched his jaw, trying to regain his sense of self. To force his mind to re focus on the here and now.

Emmet and the other man, Abdon, appeared before he could work anything out, manoeuvring Castiel inside too, so he was seated beside him. 

Sam reached out to touch him almost immediately, wanting to make sure he was really there.

He was almost certain he hadn't shown any signs of waking in their descent and his worry for him deepened.

Something wasn't right.

An angel didn't lose consciousness for no reason. 

"Juoma!" Gideon called out from behind him and Sam felt a tap of something cold and round on his shoulder. His body froze in response and he desperately shot around to try and face it, his eyes wild. His fist came up to defend himself almost instantly. 

It wasn't his weapon of choice but all his blades had been left at Bobby's.

He wasn't sure what he expected to see when he completed his turn but there was no way a changeling was going to be snacking on him today. He might have been on the verge of hypothermia but he could still fight and he would fight to the death for him and his friend.

He went to swing his fist, to push the lips off of him before they managed to attach themselves, but paused when instead of skin, he was greeted by a piece of plastic. He held his hand in the air for a moment, looking at the object suspiciously before his attention diverted to the arm holding it out in offering.

He had suspected the man would be perched on the back seats in striking position and frowned when he realised that was not the case. It took him far longer than he was proud of to work out that Gideon was just leaning through the boot of the vehicle and that his eyes, certainly weren't hollow or vacant of any signs of humanity. 

He swallowed.

He could see the three men exchange worried glances and ducked his head.

Sheepishly, he grasped hold of the container, trying to avoid looking at their faces.

His sanity plan really was not going very well.

He cleared his throat with a cough.

"Thank you." He said, but he wasn't sure if it was heard.

He held the bottle still for a second or two, just staring down at the label. His mind flashed to Castiel trying to get him to drink something similar hours (or was it days?) earlier. The more he thought about it, the more the scene came back to him.

He remembered being offered the water and thinking it was blood and trying to bat it away. He remembered Castiel swearing it wasn't. He remembered doubting him, refusing to drink it and being determined not to make the same mistake again.

That was until the angel asked for Sam to trust him and he had done so without hesitation. For how could he not trust the one person who choose to stay through his detox? That spent nights calming him down from nightmares, helping distract him with silly little things like looking up model aeroplanes on the internet? 

That was a friend to him even when he didn't deserve one?

He had earnt that absolute trust and even in his blood induced haze, Sam had little doubt about that.

Tearing at the label, he looked over to Castiel and smiled slightly, hoping the angel knew he was there for him as he had always been in return. That he wasn't leaving him alone, even if he was one day an ass who tried to push him away.

He stopped his assault on the paper and reached over, brushing his hand down the side of Castiel's face until it fell to his neck. Once there he gave it a gentle squeeze and patted it twice.

"Come back to me Cas." He whispered, shaking his head and leaning back into the seat, exhaustion and coldness taking it's hold. 

His throat burned, reminding him of his thirst and he reluctantly unscrewed the lid, gulping the water down before he could even register the voice telling him not to trust his own eyes, that the liquid was compromised in some way.

He sighed in frustration and shivered, wondering when everything would stop being so complicated - When his mind would stop jumping to all the wrong conclusions. 

He hated that he couldn't rely on it.

That he was constantly questioning it.

The engine roared to life and he soon found Emmett sat beside him, slamming the passenger door shut as the other two buckled up in front. 

He jumped, startled and tried not to think about how unaware he was of what was going on around him. Observation was the key to survival, his father had taught him that from the very beginning, yet here he was, in a car with strangers, completely oblivious to their actions. If he was asked later to describe them, he wasn't even sure he'd be able to.

He laughed to himself upon this realisation.

If only John could see him now, he'd be horrified. 

He wondered which he would prefer, an addict son who was in love with an angel, or one ruling hell and bringing on the apocalypse? Neither seemed like they would particularly be on his Christmas wish list.

"Take your shirt and jacket off." Emmett spoke, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

He turned to look at him slowly, the biggest bitch face in place as he narrowed his eyes into slits. It was only then he registered how big the guy was, certainly not taller than him, but definitely wider, with muscles that a wrestler would be proud of.

He could already hear his father's 'I told you so's.

It was like he was sat right next to him, yelling over his shoulder.

_"How on earth did you miss the fact they were human psychopaths?"_

He could feel the spit hitting his skin but refused to turn around. He couldn't give in to it now, he had to find a way to get them out of there. To get Castiel to safety.

He must have stared for too long as the man raised his eyebrows, bringing his hand up and over towards Sam.

The hunter braced himself as he felt a weight on his lap and prepared his limbs to strike.

That was until his eyes glanced down of their own accord.

And he paused.

A thick blanket had appeared where the weight of a hand should have been and his mouth soon dropped open in understanding, a silent 'oh' leaving his lips.

The man snorted and moved his head to look out the window.

"Turisteja." He said and Sam could practically feel the eye roll. The pronunciation left him in little doubt of what the translation was:

_'Tourists.'_

He cringed as he dropped the bottle and went for the buttons of his shirt. He really needed to find a gesture which would universally translate to : "I'm not usually this stupid."

Preferably before they stopped outside the asylum. 

Once the blanket was safely around both his and Castiel's shoulders, Sam leant his head back against the headrest for the briefest of seconds, the scenery warping around him, shadows dancing in the corner of his eyes.

It was the last thing he remembered before he was shook awake outside a rustic looking building, Castiel, having already been pulled from the car.

\-------------------------------

Sitting at the base of the king sized bed, in a white winter jumper and grey sweat pants, Sam towel dried his hair, leaving the material wrapped around his shoulders when he deemed the worst of the wet gone. He had thankfully managed to convince the men that neither of them were seriously hurt and that Castiel was only unconscious due to exhaustion. 

A few cuts and bruises but they didn't need an ambulance.

They had been reluctant to agree, to focused on the blood on his shirt and the traces still left on his face, to take him seriously. He had ended up spinning out some cock and bull story about one hell of a nose bleed and being really bad at hunting rabbits.

Fortunately the communication issue went in their favour and the Finnish natives let the matter drop.

A search of his pockets had revealed Sam still had his credit cards on him so he was able to pay for a room for a few days.

The people at the lodge had been lovely, insisting that they could rest there and worry about the cash later, but Sam had insisted on paying upfront.

He was pretty sure Dean would be tracing his cards by now and if Castiel couldn't fly them back, then he needed to be able to find them.

Gideon and Emmett had brought Castiel to their room as soon as that was settled, while Abdon went off in search of some spare clothes for them. 

"Go shower, we will settle him." Emmet had said the moment they entered the room. 

Sam had flat out refused. They meant well but there was no way he was leaving the angel's side.

Even if it was just to an adjoining bathroom.

He wouldn't even contemplate it.

What would Castiel think if he woke and he was alone?

He couldn't do that to him.

He had to prove he could be relied upon, that he was worth everything Castiel was doing for him.

"I doubt he want to wake, to see you covered in blood." The man had continued, his eyebrows and forehead wiggling at the end. He had his arms folded across his large chest, a smugness held in his expression. He knew he'd said the right thing, the second Sam's face fell.

He had put his shirt back on when they had left the car, the blast of the heaters having dried it mostly. Looking down at himself now, he winced. It was everywhere and you could see from the colour it wasn't just normal blood either - at least, he could. 

Which meant he was pretty sure Castiel would be able to tell too.

He swallowed hard, weighing up his options.

Did he really want Cas to be reminded of his weakness?

For it to be the first thing that greeted him?

He shook his head, looking at the men still supporting the angel, uneasily. They had given him no reason to not trust them and from what he could tell they really were just normal humans. Men, whose job was to look after the visitors in the area and that was all they were trying to do.

Slowly he went to move towards the bathroom.

Emmett smirked more in victory.

"I'll be quick- don't leave him." Sam had said hurriedly, grabbing the clothes that Abdon held out to him from the doorway. He doubted anything would fit him, but it seemed rude to refuse them.

He flashed him a smile to show his gratitude but paused as he went to open the bathroom door, turning back to look at the angel.

He deserved better.

Better than waking up with strangers with no clue as to where he had gone.

Sam panicked.

What if he thought he had given in and gone for blood?

Or worse.

Emmett rolled his eyes. 

"Go, shower is not loud, you hear if anything happens to him!" He had urged and Sam reluctantly headed inside, vowing to take the fastest one of his life. He'd get clean and be back at Castiel's side before the men even had a chance to think about harming him.

Not that he thought they would, but could he really take that chance?

" Nuori rakkaus." Gideon said with a laugh, earning himself a nudge in the stomach from his friend.

_Young love indeed._

\------

Once he was certain his hair was dry enough not to soak the bed, Sam turned his attention to Castiel, not knowing what the hell to do.

The Finnish blokes had apparently decided to undress the angel while he showered, so he lay in nothing but his (thankfully long) boxer shorts. He could see the logic in it, he was soaked and covered in Sam's blood too. The only way to not get the white bedding ruined was to remove the soiled clothing.

Still it didn't make things any easier.

He was pretty confident the angel didn't even register nudity, but at the same time he didn't want to just leave him laid like that, just encase he did.

He glanced to the spare clothing, wondering if he should dress him. It wouldn't be that hard of a task and Sam felt at least steady enough to be able to handle trying.

He contemplated the matter for about a minute before realising just how awkward it would be if he was to wake up during any part of the process.

That quickly wiped the idea away and he slowly made his way to the other side of the bed instead.

The warmth of the water had helped, but he was still cold and his body ached like hell. What's More, he was shattered, he felt like he'd been battling with every demon spawn that had escaped from the devils gate all at once.

He sunk onto the mattress beside Castiel, propping his pillows up behind him. He saw shadows moving from the corner of his eye and turned away, determined not to focus on them.

It wasn't real, just his mind trying to process everything that had happened to him.

He had to tell himself that a few times before he could believe it.

The images had steadied while he was in transit, distracted by other people. But now they were gone and he was left with nothing but his own mind for company.

And it was having fine fun.

He reached out, holding a hand under Castiel's cheek. Begging him to wake. So he wasn't alone.

He didn't so much as stir and Sam sighed, wishing he knew what the hell to do.

His stomach grumbled and he slumped back in defeat.. He didn't even know when the last time he ate something was. It had to be more than a couple of days ago as he hadn't eaten before his blood binge either, concentrating too hard on not giving in to even think about food.

Turning his head to the side, his eyes widened at the sight of a few protein bars the hikers had clearly left for them. 

He really had to find a way to thank them properly, he thought as he reached out and clawed his way through the wrapper. He devoured most of the first one in one bite.

His stomach begged him for more and he happily obliged. It was only when he was halfway through his third, did he pause. His hand hovering in midair as he stared at the treat in horror, almost vomiting on the spot.

Instead of the cereal based treat he had seen only moments ago, there was maggots and worms and little creatures jumping about.

He hurled it across the room, gagging as he felt the stuff crawling down his throat.

He put his head in his hands, griping at the sides as he tried to convince himself that it was a trick, that he had eaten real food and what he saw was just another hallucination, the last of the blood kicking up some sort of fuss. 

He almost willed the fog to come back- because that was so much easier to deal with than this.

When he felt a little bit more in control he raised his head again.

Almost instantly the shadows at the corner of his eyes were back. They darted and clawed and reached for him.

He tried to ignore them, focusing on pulling the blankets over Castiel, then on tucking him in, then on climbing under the sheets himself.

He ignored them all, until the one he didn't.

His eyes darted to his right, towards the doorway, following the path it had made. He wasn't surprised to see nothing was there but he slowly trailed his eyes across the rest of room anyway, just to be sure.

It was empty too, just the wooden furniture that filled the space. The draws, the desk, the bed, the cabinets, all completely free of any kind of threat. 

He relaxed.

Then something moved by Castiel's side and his attention darted to the window.

Part of his brain was telling him that it wasn't real, the other part was saying something was clearly there.

He focused on the image more.

That was when he started to realise he could hear it too, the hissing, the slivering, the carpet moving apart and bubbling under its surface.

He laid down flat on his side, shuffling closer to the angel, resting his forehead against his shoulder as he curled himself in.

He felt about ten again, but he didn't care. Too lost to his own mind's delusions to be capable of rational thought.

When he had first awoken, he had been afraid that all he could do was smell. Now though he wanted nothing more than to shut his other sense back down again. To switch of his vision and the pain and everything else, so he could just concentrate on Castiel and his smell, the one thing he could rely upon.

Castiel was real, he tried to tell himself, the snake slithering along the top of the blankets wasn't.

He heard a menacing laugh from the corner and breathed deeper, his hand gripping around Castiel's arm.

He knew what would be there without even having to peek.

The orange afro hair, the red nose, the white painted face.

He swallowed hard and begged, begged Castiel to wake up and help him find a way back to reality.

\------------------------------------

It was hours later by the time Sam stopped hearing or feeling things and he finally managed to convince himself to emerge from the blankets, not trusting his mind not to start up again, but needing to move all the same - to check what was going on.

He needed to be sure the clown really was gone, that he wasn't lulling him into a false sense of security before he pounced.

He only just managed one a full scope of the room when he felt a body shift beside him.

Sam's attention darted to him, forcing himself up right and placing his hand on his shoulder again, shaking it.

"Cas can you hear me?" He asked, his breath hitched as he waited for a response. He prayed that what he saw wasn't just another mirage. 

He couldn't cope if his mind started affecting the angel too.

Castiel shifted again, his fingers curling around the bed sheets. Then in a blink of an eye, his eyes snapped open and he bolted up right. He all but charged of the bed and fought religiously against the covers. His angel blade was out in seconds, his hand spinning it into a striking position.

That was not the ground he had become accustomed too.

The one he had passed out against next to Sam.

"Woah easy, it's alright." Sam said reassuringly, holding his hands up in placation, his own problems quickly forgotten.

Castiel's attention turned to him instantly and for the briefest of moments he paused, the blade and his whole posture still ready to fight. He looked dangerous, like the soldier he had been born to be. Then his face broke out into a surprised smile and his whole position changed.

Gone was the warrior, the man who could tear someone apart in one move, in his place was the side of the angel Sam had come to know.

The one he was privileged to see.

He looked relieved as he took in the sight of the man on the bed.

"Sam!"

Before Sam could register what was happening, he was pulled into a bone crushing hug. 

Slightly startled by the gesture, he didn't return it instantly, confused as to what had brought on such an action. Castiel wasn't ever one to act on impulse.

When he didn't let go, Sam slowly brought his arms up and returned the embrace, causing Castiel to close his eyes and hold on tighter.

He'd never been so afraid for another person before, never felt such emotions inside of him at the prospect of loss. The last image in his mind was of Sam's cold, dying body and an unbeating heart. 

Pressed up against him now, he could feel it, pumping his blood like there had never been a problem in the first place. It made him never want to pull away, never want to let him go. Human lives were so fragile, all dependent on something as simple as a beating organ. How could be pull himself away that, from the reassurance that he really was okay?

Sam patted Castiel's back a couple of times, his brow creasing in uncertainty before he broke them apart.

What the hell had happened ?

He asked as much as Castiel reluctantly dropped his hold. The angel expression was unreadable as he studied him carefully. Eventually he glanced down at himself, registering why the hug felt so different. Skin contact was weird.

He didn't say anything however and Sam felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up on end.

"Cas?" He prompted, his voice was cautious this time, worry seeping into his gut.

The angel turned his attention back to him and sat down on the edge of the mattress. He had never denied him anything before and he certainly wasn't going to deny him an explanation now. 

Still it didn't make it easier to say.

"You died." He replied carefully, quietly, his eyes falling. They instantly hardened as he came to remember it and closed as he tried to block the recurring images out.

That was not something he ever wished to see again.

Ever wished to experience again.

"What? Then how am I here?" Sam questioned, his confusion tripling. Castiel had said it could take months to find his soul again, did that mean he had been gone all that time? Was his disorientation down to hell memories? Where even were the hell memories? The hallucinations were bad, but he didn't think they were anywhere near as bad as they should have been if he took a trip down there. He had seen the haunted look in Dean's eyes first hand, surely that meant he should have been suffering way more than he was now. "How long was I down...?" he trailed off, his eyes widening as he tried desperately to access memories that weren't there to begin with.

Castiel seemed to pick up on Sam's distress and tilted his head to the side, it took him a bit longer to work out what was the cause but as soon as he did, he reached out, placing his hand on Sam's arm.

"You were not in hell Sam, I would never let you end up there." He reassured and Sam's eyes snapped to his own, his body relaxing slightly but the confusion still holding strong. "I used my grace to bring you back."

Sam did a double take.

"I thought you couldn't heal?" he asked warily, wondering just what the cost of doing something so impossible was.

"I cant... I shouldn't have been able to, but you were dead Sam, dead and I needed to bring you back. Rest assured, you will never experience hell so long as I have the power to stop it." He spoke with such fierce determination that Sam was left with little doubt that that was indeed true. "I pushed, with everything I had and it saved you but i-"

"Used all your strength to do it." Sam finished, realisation drawing on him. Of course, what else would cause an angel to lose consciousness like that?

"Yes."

"Oh God Cas I'm-"

"Do not apologise to me Sam, that was my decision to make and I have no regrets."

"But where does that leave you? Are you human now? Do you need to eat, or drink, I can get you..." He trailed of as Cas held a hand up, pausing in his actions to scramble for some of the energy bars to pass to him, watching him with concern, waiting for his next instruction.

"I do not require anything right now, sleep was enough, I will let you know if that changes." Castiel replied, smiling in fondness at Sam's desire to help. He really struggled to understand how anyone could ever think of the man as malicious. " As for being human, I don't... know, I feel weak, my vision and hearing are all different, but I can still feel... something. Perhaps I just need time."

Sam nodded and dropped his hand back onto the bed, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the soft touch Castiel still held on his own. He didn't like the thought of him giving up so much just to save him, but he couldn't be mad at him for it either. He didn't want to imagine himself in hell any more than Castiel did. Just the thought of being trapped down there terrified him to the bones.

"I don't know how to thank you." He admitted, shaking his head. He didn't deserve someone risking themselves in such a way for him. He didn't have a clue how he could ever repay him for an act so selfless.

"You don't need to."  
"Of course I do! Cas you- you lost, you-." He cut himself of, not knowing what to say. How to put into words just what he had done for him and how much it meant to him. He had pretty much used the last of his grace to save someone he had once considered nothing but vermin. You didn't get more special than that. 

"- Would do it over and over again." Castiel finished for him, his eyes conveying his sincerity. 

"Why? Why after everything I've done would you want to spare me? You should hate me!" Sam questioned, his chest falling. "I drank blood, again."

"I don't care. I could never feel hatred towards you. You are important to me Sam, more so than you realise." Castiel confessed. He held Sam's gaze for a moment before turning away and looking towards the window. He studied what he could see of the mountain he had taken them too carefully and soon got to his feet to take a closer look at it, placing his hands against the glass.

It was strange, seeing it from human eyes rather than his own.

Sam looked stunned, his breath caught in his throat. Then he broke out into a smile, a warmth spreading out across his chest, warming him in a way heat could never manage.

"You're important to me too." He said quietly and he could just about see Castiel with the same expression on his face in the reflection.

That only caused him to smile more.

He didn't know what else to say, so instead he got up and joined Castiel by the window. Trying not to wince as he straightened his back. Keeping it still for so long had not been a good idea.

There were people down at the lake he realised as he glanced down. They were out on a boat, searching the waters with nothing but curiosity in place.

That's when he remembered the reason the hikers had given for being up the mountain in the first place.

"So what about the splash, was that you?" He asked after a brief moment of silence, his eyes locked on the people below. 

"What splash?"Castiel asked apprehensively, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face the hunter.

"Something hit the lake. Three Finnish men went up the mountain to try and investigate it, only they came across us and brought us down instead of continuing on to the top to find out what it was." He explained and the oddest expression immediately appeared on the angel's face.

Sam's own eyes narrowed as he regarded him with suspicion. That was no longer the look of someone who didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"What did you do?"

"Urrrrr." Castiel replied sheepish, purposely looking away.

"Cas?" Sam probed further, drawing out his name a little. If he wasn't curious before, that reaction alone was enough to spark his interests to their absolute limit.

"There may have been an incident with a reaper." He admitted, looking back to Sam and drawing his hands to his side.

"An incident?" Sam repeated, raising his eyebrows and waiting for him to elaborate further. 

"Yes. She came to collect your soul."

"And?"

"And I may have... angrily... removed her from the scene." Castiel continued, choosing his wording extremely carefully.

Sam almost snorted.

"And how exactly did you do that?" He asked with a deadpan expression, trying to fight off his amusement. He had seen an angry Castiel plenty of times before and could only imagine what creative way he had chosen to get rid of someone who was annoying him.

"Well." He replied and Sam raised both his eyebrows. "I may have pushed her, of the cliff, with my foot...." He paused, considering things for a moment longer, then with a completely straight face added. " She was really not expecting that." 

Sam couldn't hold back the laugh which followed and Castiel smiled, he would never get bored of hearing that sound.

"Are we going to have an angry reaper on our hands?" The hunter asked, once he managed to compose himself a little.

Castiel stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly considering this, it honestly wasn't something he had thought about until Sam brought it up.

"No, I don't believe so." He replied, then tilted his head thinking about the point further. "Though, perhaps we should all be extra careful about staying alive for the time being."

Sam broke out into another laugh and Castiel grinned.

He liked amusing him, he decided.

He reached out with his hand, to brush the hair that had fallen into Sam's face away, but stopped short of touching him as his eyes picked up the colouring of his skin.

He turned his palm around so he could see it properly, recognizing for the first time that they still held traces of dried blood. He grimaced, willing his skin to clean itself and frowned when he realised he didn't have the grace to do that anymore.

He rubbed his hands together, as if the friction would cause it to vanish.

Sam seemed to realise the problem at the same time as him and quickly reached out. 

"Come on, I'll show you how to work the shower."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, my computer deleted my document and i spent a few days sulking. Nothing is ever as good as the first time you wrote it out. Can't believe this was meant to be a quick 2000 word fic and now its hit over 50,000 - HOW DID THAT HAPPEN


	14. Chapter 14

He wasn't really sure how it happened. One minute he was reaching out to adjust the dial on the shower while Castiel was looking through the stack of clothing he had given him, the next he was turning around to witness a pair of boxer shorts falling to the floor. 

If it had been anyone else, Sam might have laughed the whole spectacle off, thrown a towel at them - basically reacted in some other way other than just gawping. But it was _Cas_ and he was suddenly _naked_ , not four feet away from him.

He was not proud to admit that his eyes were practically glued to the sight, taking in every detail they possibly could.

It was only when Castiel bent over to pick up the white material, did Sam's mind finally catch up with him. Of all the things he had expected to see today, the angel's bare ass wasn't one of them. 

His jaw practically hit the floor as Cas' cheeks parted, a not so manly squeak leaving his lips as he truly registered what he was seeing.

That had been his second mistake he soon realised, (the first being not feeling the need to mention certain social protocols) as Castiel quickly ceased what he was doing and began to turn around to face him, a questioning look on his face.

"Sam?" The angel asked, tilting his head to the side as the hunter's eyes snapped shut and his face burned beetroot. 

_This was so not happening._

"Urr....I'llLeaveYouToIt! He replied in a rush, attempting to brush past him, towards the doorway. He had never felt the need to curse a small bathroom as much as he did at that very moment. Unfortunately for him his blood supply was seemingly not reaching his legs and he soon found them giving out underneath him, his co-ordination skills falling to an all time low as he tumbled.

Castiel grabbed for him in an instant, tightening his hands around both of Sam's upper arms to prevent the inevitable crash. He may not have had the strength of an angel anymore, but he certainly had the reflexes of one.

Sam's face burned an even deeper shade of red if that was at all possible. He tried his hardest to not look down as he regained his balance, mortified as he stared over the top of Castiel's head. Turns out his height really did come in handy at times.

"You need to be more careful, I cannot heal you again." Castiel spoke, but his tone held little annoyance.

Sam was pretty sure he was looking up at him, monitoring his expressions, but he didn't dare check.

He closed his eyes once more and nodded, pulling his lips together.

"I know...." He all but forced out.

Castiel took that as his cue to let go and released his hands' grip. He turned in bewilderment along with Sam, to watch him continue to leg it out of the room. His eyes squinting as the hunter grabbed hold of the golden knob and slammed the door closed behind him.

He winced at the volume of the noise.

For a moment Castiel remained stock still, his eyes just staring at the wooden structure. As seconds past, he found himself knowing less and less of what Sam was doing on the other side and frowned. He really didn't like humanities sense of vision, or hearing for that matter he decided. It was so restricted and over sensitive compared to what he was used to.

Accepting he wasn't going to get any clue's from the hunter while they remained in different rooms, he glanced down at himself, wondering if the lack of clothing was the reason for Sam's abrupt behaviour.

At the time, he honestly hadn't seen a problem with removing his pants, Sam had already told him to do so before getting under the shower just minute earlier.

However the Winchester's were always so private about him seeing them like that, that perhaps he should have considered that it might have worked both ways. That Sam might have preferred him to wait until after he left before he undressed completely.

He would have to remember that for next time.

He shook his head and stepped towards the bath tub, eying it and the piece of metal that hung from the wall, suspiciously. 

He brushed the thoughts out of his head as he cautiously stepped under the spray.

Human's had such odd unspoken rules.

-

On the other side of the door, Sam let out a shaky breath as he leant against the frame and ran a hand down his face.

Someone up there was rolling around, laughing their feathery wings off at his expense, he was sure of it.

Perhaps Lucifer had decided to try and embarrass him into saying yes instead. That, or God had a really sick sense of humour.

He manoeuvred himself to the bed, his face still very much crimson as he tried to steady his ever quickening pulse. He sunk back against the headboard, wondering how he was ever going to look Castiel in the face again, let alone share a bed with him. He really hadn't thought the sleeping arrangements through when he had paid for the room. 

It wasn't that he minded per say, he liked having the angel close, but after seeing him stark naked - well he'd seen enough bad rom-coms to know sharing a bed following that event was not a good idea.

He felt a familiar blood rush travelling south and cringed.

He was so so screwed.

Now was really not the time for his desires to be stepping up a gear.

He thought of Dean and Bobby and his none existing, elderly grandma to try and distract himself. He needed to get everything back under control before Castiel re entered the room, the last thing he needed was the angel worrying about him and drawing all sorts of the wrong conclusions.

That was so not a conversation he wanted to have. 

Ever.

The problem was the more he tried not to think about the curve in Cas' spine, the dips in his back muscles, the strength in his thighs, his bare- _errr_ \- the more he ended up thinking about it and a whole lot more.

Like, what if he hadn't closed his eyes?

He tilted his head up so he was facing the ceiling and threw his hands over his face, drawing them down his cheeks. He opened his mouth and let out a loud groan.

For a second he wondered if he was juvenile enough to pretend to be asleep. At least then he could put off facing him for that bit longer.

He closed his eyes again and rubbed at them, quickly discarding that idea, he ached like hell and didn't actually want to risk falling asleep for real. Besides he couldn't do that, he didn't want to trick Castiel in anyway, that wasn't fair, it was his problem to deal with, not the angel's. 

He just had to be a god damn adult about this and get his thoughts back under control.

He kept his eyes shut and tried to clear his mind of everything regarding Castiel's (or was it Jimmy's?) body.

He squirmed. That was a whole over issue that he really did not want to deal with. He liked Castiel, but it was so easy to forget that what he was seeing was a vessel, another human and that the angel in reality was some sort pure light force. Having desires for the form he saw, wasn't the same as having them for the angel, there was a whole over person involved who was so easy to forget about. Nevertheless he couldn't, not really. While he knew the man had given his consent, twice actually, for Castiel to wear him as such, that didn't mean he wasn't still in there somewhere.

That he wasn't seeing or experiencing everything Castiel was.

He squeezed his eyelids tighter until they were so firmly pressed together that he started to see stars dancing away in the darkness. He concentrated hard on forcing every thought, every feeling into the deepest depths of his mind and locking them there.

If not for his own good, then for Jimmy's. 

For a moment everything was silent, then he felt something cold brush against his face and flinched, his eyes snapping open in an instant. Without really thinking he darted them around, trying to search for the source.

Unsurprisingly there was nothing there.

He looked around again, unsurely this time, dread seeping into the pits of his stomach when he realised he could still see the stars, that they were becoming solid objects, rather than staying as the fuzzy missing dots in his vision that they were supposed to be.

'No, not again.' His mind panicked.

He heard something breathe heavy behind him and sat stock still in response, trying his hardest not to turn his attention towards it.

He was against a wall, it was impossible for anything to actually be there. He looked straight ahead instead and cursed when the stars morphed into shadows in front of him. 

He tried to ignore them, tried not to register them as anything other than faint shapes. His own shadow, and the lampshade beside him, nothing more.

He tried to close his eyes, to truly block it out, but his brain was already focusing on them, trying to decipher what was going on behind him.

Slowly he saw a claw, with nails as sharp as blades, moving towards him.

He jumped to his feet, ignoring all reason, jolting as far away from it as he could get.

_'There's nothing there'_ He whispered to himself. _'Nothing there, nothing there, nothing there, nothi-'_

Something moved beside him and he span on his heels, taking a few steps into the centre of the room, looking from one corner to the next, trying to work out where it was safe. 

Where he could stand and not see anything but furniture.

He turned to the window, the door, the bathroom, the bed.

_'Snap out of it Sam.'_

He heard a click behind him and his stomach lunged. The image of a cold hard gun appearing as a silhouette in his mind, a figure standing behind him, holding it to the back of his head.

He swallowed hard, bracing himself. 

To go through all that detox, just for it to end this way, didn't seem fair.

_'Hallucinations cannot hurt you... For God sake A 2D object cannot shoot real bullets'_

That knowledge did nothing to stop his palms from sweating.

He tried desperately to pull at his memories, to work out what he needed to do. He was trained for this, he'd survived worse. He needed to grab the gun, to get it of his attacker, to-

"Thank you for your assistance with the shower, I fell a lot better now. " Castiel called out, his familiar footfalls re entering the room.

Sam froze, holding the tension in his shoulders as he attempted to register the voice- he knew it, he knew the person it belonged to.

He knew he did.

And he meant no harm.

He tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm himself down before he gave anything away.

It was just Cas and now he was safe.

He breathed out brokenly, his hand coming back to find his face.

He squeezed, trying to diffuse the two situations, separate them into what was reality and what was a horrible waking nightmare.

Castiel frowned as he watched Sam carefully, his lack of response confusing him greatly. He was holding himself weird, his shoulders locked and rigid in a way they never were. Slowly he stepped forward, wondering why the hunter was not turning around to face him, to even acknowledge he was there.

Surely he had gotten over the incident by now and he was certain he had spoken out loud. Even if he hadn't, Sam's instincts should have gone into overdrive the second he heard something enter the room.

Despite the purposely louder movement, he still did not react so Castiel stepped around him, so they were face to face, concern written all over his features. 

He wanted to reach out to touch him, to snap him out of whatever trance he had been placed in, but one look at his expression, stopped him cold.

"Are you alright?"

Sam nodded forcefully and in Castiel's opinion completely unconvincingly. His eyes holding a level of fear equivalent to that of a child who had lost a parent in a crowd.

Castiel frowned more.

Something was going on.

He looked around, trying to pick out anything which could have caused such a reaction to someone whose whole life had basically been something out of a horror movie.

He saw nothing out of place and looked back to the hunter, hoping he would get some sort of explanation from him.

He was left disappointed.

"Yeah, can't complain." Sam replied, all but forcing a fake smile onto his face, his cheeks tight and almost cracking under the pressure to retain a happy composure. 

Castiel squinted, he may not have been able to hear the boy's heartbeat any more but he didn't need to, Sam's whole posture gave it away.

And his eyes.

His eyes looked haunted.

It was eerie to see.

"Sam." He said in a warning tone, but the hunter brushed it off, walking back towards the window as if everything was normal, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Did you not like the clothes?" He asked, purposely changing the subject and indicating to the blue robe Castiel was wearing in replacement to what he had given him. He hoped he had at least remembered to put the pants on underneath.

He hoped, but he was never going to ask.

"No, I much prefer this. It's - freer." Castiel replied, studying Sam cautiously, his eyes trailing up and down him, picking apart his every limb as he tried to work out what exactly the problem was.

The man may have been a trained liar but Castiel was no fool.

"Good, that's good that you, well you know, that you know, what you like and what you don't." Sam continued, almost incoherently as he turned to look out the glass, placing his palms on the window sill and leaning his weight down on them. They shook slightly and Sam tightened his grip, willing them to be still and obey him for once. 

Castiel pulled his eyebrows together and walked up behind him, reaching out and placing his hand on his shoulder gingerly.

Sam's whole body tensed at the contact.

Castiel found he was not at all surprised, but did not let go all the same.

"Sam, something is wrong with you, what is it?" He asked, locking his hand there and tugging, pulling the hunter around to look at him again.

He had learnt by now he had a better chance of extracting the information he wanted, if he was maintaining eye contact with him.

Sam's jaw was locked as he shook his head, denying the accusation.

Castiel practically rolled his eyes.

"You realise there has yet to be anything I have not learnt about you. Eventually you won't be able to hide it anymore...Telling me now will save you hours of needless suffering." He stated simply, refusing to let Sam drop his gaze. 

He really was far too stubborn for his own good.

He wondered if there would ever be a time where Sam's desire to protect the people he cared about from the truth, would ever be outweighed by his need to share the burden that had been placed on him. Somehow he doubted it, Sam was far to selfless for that.

Foolishly so.

"Just tell me. Please." he continued.

"It's nothing important. You can't help me." Sam injected, his voice still slightly hoarse from the detox.

This time Castiel did roll his eyes.

"All the more reason for you to tell me." He countered, dropping his grip on Sam's shoulder and moving his hand down his arm until it rested on his wrist. Once there he squeezed it encouragingly. 

Sam shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, looking very much like he was about to deny anything was wrong again, to reaffirm that it was nothing for the angel to concern himself with.

His gaze dropped to Castiel's hold on him, then travelled back to his face.

He closed his mouth and swallowed.

The concern for him was obvious, he couldn't deny it.

And he couldn't deny him.

"It's... I'm just ...." He trailed off, not really wanting to continue. As far as Castiel was probably concerned, the blood was gone and it was over and done with. He didn't want to inform him otherwise. Didn't want him to know it was still affecting him in such a way. 

His tolerance of him must really have been stretched to the limit already.

"Yes?" Castiel egged on, nodding for him to continue, rubbing his thumb over the veins on his wrist repetitively, soothingly.

"I'm still seeing things." Sam eventually admitted, ashamed, his eyes falling to the ground.

For a moment, Castiel said nothing, just continued his previous action, then he stopped and nodded.

"I am not surprised. You've gone through a lot." He replied and Sam was stunned to find no judgement coming from him. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected, but it wasn't that. He had sucked two demons dry, that didn't just get brushed aside, especially not by an angel. Perhaps the continued hallucinations was no less than what he deserved for committing such an act. 

He shivered. 

"Will it stop?" He asked almost reluctantly, like he was afraid of the answer. He didn't know what he would do if this became a permanent fixture in his life. He didn't think he would cope.

Castiel tilted his head to the side, considering the question carefully. He briefly thought about telling Sam what he wanted to hear, but stopped himself. Sam didn't need another person in his life hiding things from him.

"I'm unsure, it depends." He admitted and Sam's shoulders sagged. 

"On?" He all but whispered.

"On whether you rest Sam. Your mind is no different to the wound stitched on your shoulder. It needs time to recover. Go and lie down, sleep. Give it a chance, there are no quick fixes I'm afraid."

Sam shook his head, his face draining of colour at just the thought of actually sleeping.

"I can't sleep. Lucifer is worse."

Castiel sighed. 

"Then perhaps just start with laying down."

He tightened his grip and lead him over to the bed. Sam narrowed his eyes at him but reluctantly allowed himself to be moved and took a seat on the mattress. Bar entering luciferville at this point he would give anything a try if it meant the hallucinations would stop. 

A part of him felt stupid, he knew what he was seeing wasn't real, he should have been able to deal with it in a logical manner. The thing was though, rational thinking pretty much went out the window when the visions appeared. 

It was by no means fair, but to him everything was there.

Everything was real.

Everything could cause harm.

As soon as Castiel was sure Sam was actually going to stay put, he made his way back to the window to close the drapes. He smiled when he saw the small light display which was just visible in the sky.

" I never got to explain." He said suddenly and Sam, managed to force himself to ignore everything else and turn to look at him.

"Explain what?" He requested, his eyebrows drawing together.

Castiel completed his task and made his way back to the bed as he spoke.

"Why I chose here."

Sam looked troubled for a moment, before leaning forward, ignoring the burn in his back which erupted from the movement. Cas really was right, he needed rest.

"Why did you?" He asked curiously. He had been wondering that from the second he opened his eyes and realised it wasn't a figment of his imagination. That Castiel really had taken him to Finland, a place almost 4,000 miles away from where they originally were. It seemed random to say the least.

"It was the closest representation on earth I could find."

Castiel eyes softened as he reached out and placed his hand on the hunter's arm, sitting himself in front of him at the corner of the bed.

"To what?" Sam coaxed, his eyes locking on Castiel's, his heartbeat quickening again. He could still feel things, see things, hear things which weren't there, but he was so focused on the angel that found he didn't care. He knew Castiel was real and that was all that mattered, everything else sort of faded into the background. 

"To what your soul looks like to me." He replied and watched with a smile as Sam's eyes darted to where the display was, now hidden behind thick curtains. He looked away and found Castiel's own again quickly, his forehead creasing, almost demanding an explanation as his lips parted.

For once it was an explanation Castiel was happy to give.

" I know you think that the demon blood has crippled your soul but that is not true. I won't deny there are dark specs within it, but it makes up so little of what you are. The lights out there, while impressive now, are nothing compared to what they were in the darkest part of the night. Agree?"

Sam nodded. He wasn't going to forget that display in a hurry.

"Your soul to me Sam, is just like that. The darkness which inadvertently surrounds you, makes the purity of it stand out so much more. A good soul is one thing, a good soul radiating through a darkened tinge is something else. Your soul is pure and an exception to everything it's supposed to be." He explained, squeezing Sam's arm. He had to make sure he got it. That he never thought such terrible things about something so amazing again. "It has a strength to it that I can't even describe to you. So I thought it was best to show you the beauty of it. So you could understand with your own eyes, what it is I see when I look at you."

Sam was silent for a moment, drawing his hands together to rest on his lap as he attempted to take in what he was being told.

A part of him wanted to scoff, to brush it off, to demand answers as to why he would make something like that up, but the other half knew, knew Castiel had no reason to lie to him.

That he wouldn't lie to him.

"It's not damaged?" He eventually settled on asking, wanting that reassurance that he really had just heard what he thought he did.

"No, it is not." Castiel confirmed, shaking his head slightly. He was seriously considering writing it down - Sam liked to read, maybe he could slot it into one of his books so he could never forget."While I cannot guarantee what would have happened if you continued down Ruby's path, I can assure you the demon blood you have ingested previously has had no lasting effect. It still shines."

"Cas I- Thank you!" Sam replied, nodding firmly. He paused for a moment then reached over and pulled him into their second hug of the day- one Castiel readily accepted. "Thank you for being here, for staying with me, for just ...everything."

"You are most welcome Sam." Castiel replied as they broke apart, though he noted he was now sitting a lot closer to the hunter than before. However despite this awareness he made no attempt to gather some distance between them. "I'm just sorry I couldn't help more."

"More?"

Sam pulled a face, taken back, wondering how on earth Castiel could even think he could have done anything else to support him.

"I couldn't find away to convince you I wasn't a hallucination. I think I did more harm than good for a while." The angel confessed.

Sam drew his brow together, wrinkles appearing on his nose, showing just how much he disagreed with that statement. 

"No, no Cas you didn't, I mean, yeah I was confused but you were always there and it helped -so much, just knowing I wasn't alone, that I had you, whatever version of you my brain told me you were. It was... comforting. There is nothing else you could have possibly have done. I can't believe what you did do." Castiel smiled softly, reaching out. " Dying with someone, is a whole lot better than dying without."

He dropped his hand, grimacing.

"I'm glad I could help." He replied roughly, pressing his lips together into a thin line.

It was Sam's turn to frown.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No of course not... just don't die on me again." Castiel cautioned in as strong a voice as he could muster. He did not practically like remembering what had happened, even now, knowing Sam was breathing, didn't make it any easier. He hadn't experienced loss like that before and never wanted to again.

Sam half smiled, ruefully under a curtain of his hair.

"I will try."

"You will do more than try Sam Winchester."

Sam nodded. It wasn't exactly something he wanted to go through again either.

"Okay." 

He laid back against the pillows, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to place his body in a more comfortable position. He couldn't seem to find one. He pulled the blankets up around him, trying to lock in as much warmth as he could.

The shower and the heat of the room had helped, but he was still cold and it was just causing him to ache more.

"Cas?" He asked quietly as the angel shifted to sit beside him and drew his legs up on to the bed. He turned his head, to indicate he was listening but said no words. "Do you mean it? My soul really looks like that?"

"Yes, even when we first met, that is what I saw."

Sam licked his lips.

"You hated me then." He pointed out as a matter of fact, though it didn't really bother him anymore. It stung back then, but they had both come so far since that he couldn't hold it against him. He would have hated him too if he was in Castiel's shoes.

"Perhaps, but I did not know you. Your repetition was that of a pit bull." He stopped, letting out a brief laugh. " You should have heard the stories that were told in heaven of the boy set to be Lucifer's vessel. You were this thing, scum, no better than the devil himself. There were petitions to kill you the second Mary conceived again."

"Jeez Cas don't sugar coat it." Sam broke in, tossing his head to knock his hair out of the way. He was painfully aware that his voice was never welcomed in prayers by heaven, he didn't need to know the details of their disdain for him.

"Right." Castiel continued. "However despite this, if you remember, I still shook your hand." He had realised to late that perhaps he had been a little too honest that time. There was apparently a fine line between not lying to someone and telling them details that were better left buried.

"Yeah, with great reluctance."

Sam stretched out the word great, raising an eyebrow as he recalled just how long it had taken for Castiel to reach out to return the handshake. He moved his own hand out slowly, almost robotically, as if to stress the point.

The angel looked down awkwardly, but was thankful to realise that there was no hurt being conveyed in his tone.

He hadn't considered at the time that his hesitation would have had any effect on him. Apparently he had been wrong.

"Perhaps, but I did it. Regardless of everything I heard. Uriel was not happy about that, wondered how I could bare to touch you. But how could I not, for something that was said to be humanities destructor, you were still so pure. I thought it was disguised somehow, that you were tricking us, so I touched you, that only confused me more. I haven't stopped being confused by you." He admitted and Sam smirked.

"Sorry about that." 

Castiel could only glare at him, picking up on what he usually wouldn't.

"Your voice does not seem particularly apologetic." He remarked, copying an expression he had seen Sam pull many times before when he was unimpressed with something, but not annoyed, an important distinction he had learned. 

Sam shrugged.

"That confusion led to us being friends, how could I be sorry about that."

Sam nudged into him and Castiel uneasily attempted to return the gesture.

That only made Sam smile more, sinking down into the pillows and shifting his position slightly, still not entirely comfortable. The angel shook his head as he watched his eyes droop closed of their own accord.

"You really should sleep, it's your body's only chance of recovering." He commented as he realised for the first time just how red Sam's eyes were - how evidently exhausted he was, despite how hard he was fighting to prevent it coming to the surface.

"I can't Cas, just please not now. If I sleep, Lucifer will come and I don't have the strength to fight him." 

He looked dejected and Castiel's stomach twisted in response.

The angel debated what to do for a moment but the second Sam shivered he made up his mind. Luckily Sam sinking down meant that he was in a lower position on the bed than the angel, which would allow what he was planning to work so much better.

Awkwardly he moved his arm over Sam's head and placed it around him, resting his hand on the shoulder furthest away. 

Sam gave him a weird look, but lifted his head up to make it easier for Castiel to wrap his arm around him. He also made no attempt to move away, almost sinking into the warmth that his body brought him. 

Castiel took that as a good sign and shifted slightly closer, drawing Sam in.

"You really need to stop that." Castiel said carefully, looking down at him in concern.

"What?" Sam questioned, freezing slightly and attempting to sit back up, as if he had done something wrong in accepting what was offered. Castiel squeezed his shoulder, trying to convey to him that he had in fact gotten the wrong end of the stick and that wasn't what he was referring to at all..

"You need to stop saying you're not strong enough. You are. I don't put my faith in just anyone, but I put it in you."

Sam was somewhat grateful his hair probably blocked the angel's view of his face as he felt his cheeks burn, a deep blush setting upon them.

"Cas i-"

"No more talking Sam, you need to rest."

"Okay, but I'm not going to sleep." He mumbled in reply, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest.

Castiel shook his head and glanced around. Seeing a TV remote on the bedside table, he reached over to it, gathered it up and pointed it towards the box that hung in the opposite corner.

With a glance at Sam, to make sure he wasn't going to object, he switched on.

"I can't force you to, but please consider it. I won't let you face Lucifer alone."

Sam let out a 'hmmm' but made no attempt to say anything else, watching the screen as Castiel shifted through the channels, enjoying the warmth his body was giving out. 

If Cas thought this would make him sleep, he was seriously underestimating his ability to stay awake, Sam concluded, as he properly settled into the sheets.

A few minutes later, as his head bobbed, Castiel could only smirk.

A smug satisfaction bubbling in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!!
> 
> I re wrote that first part at least 6 times to try and make it right lol, hope it works!


	15. Chapter 15

"Cas?" Sam asked softly, his eyes creeping open. The room was dark, that was the first thing he registered as he tried to fight off the urge to cough.  Only the soft glow from the tv screen was allowing him to see the shadows of the furniture, the heavy curtains blocking out any other light sources from entering the room.

Everything was blurry, so he squeezed his eyelids closed a few times to try and adjust his vision.

He had been drifting in and out of sleep for the past few hours now, coughing fits waking him as soon as he properly settled. Something always lulled him back under though, helped him drift back off the second his eyes opened.

He could hear music he soon realised and glanced towards the screen, curious on what show Castiel had settled on. He was surprised to see some sort of music station and instantly frowned, silently cursing Dean for whatever information he had been spoon feeding to the angel.

There was no way he thought to put soft rock on on his own.

Castiel's attention turned to him almost immediately, though he did not stop the movement of his hand, which was drawing small circles along Sam's bicep.

"Yes Sam?"

Sam breathed deeply and tilted his head up so he could make out the man’s face . He was far too comfortable and warm to even contemplate moving more than that.

His ear was pressed to Castiel’s chest, his body almost curled into him.

As he gazed into the eyes of his friend, he swore he could see the bright blue lights of the angels shining behind his irises, making his eye colour that much more vivid and prompt, despite the darkness of the place they lay in.

He always loved Castiel’s eyes, yet a simple ‘blue’ never seemed an accurate enough description for them, it was sufficient enough, like calling the sun yellow, but it never described the real beauty which was held within them.

Castiel’s hand moved to run down the top of his back and Sam sighed, every muscle in his body relaxing under the touch. It almost made him forget what he wanted to ask.

Almost, but not quite.

"How long have you been doing this?" He mumbled, his brain still foggy from sleep, his throat was tickling him too, making it that much harder for him to concentrate.

Castiel features froze for a second, before wrinkles appeared on his forehead and he glanced down at the hunter in confusion.

"Doing what?"

His voice was steady, no different from his usual tone, but inside Castiel’s mind raced, trying to work out exactly what Sam was asking him.

Exactly what he had discovered.

"This... How long have you been sitting with me while I sleep?" He may not have been in his best frame of mind, but over the last few hours, everything had fallen into place for him. He suddenly understood why Castiel’s smell was so comforting and familiar, why he felt so safe when  he was near him, why he was waking up and feeling like someone was there even though he was always alone.

Lying like this now, he didn't understand how he had not drawn the conclusions earlier.

Castiel's motions ceased in a heartbeat, his hand sort of hovering in its position, he had gone to draw it away, but stopped himself when it was barely a millimetre of off Sam’s back. He wanted to get this right, but he didn't know which move would be for the best.

"Umm.." He replied, trying to formulate a response, he honestly hadn't considered the possibility of Sam realising everything on his own.

If he had been aware that this time was different, that Sam was really waking up properly, then he would have moved away slightly, untangled them as to not cause him any discomfort. The problem was he had always relied on his grace to tell him that, to differentiate between the two. Without it, he hadn't noticed the signs that humans gave out, hadn't realised Sam was becoming very aware of his surroundings, that was waking himself up.

It was unnerving to him, he hadn't even considered not knowing as a possibility before.

Be berated himself for his lack of foresight. That should have been obvious from the moment he realised his vision had changed.

"A while." He admitted, a strange feeling fluttering in his stomach. He didn't want to lose what they had. He didn't want to have to put that space between them, He would, without question if Sam told him to stop, but the thought alone was far from appealing.

How was he meant to help him if he couldn't comfort him like this any more?

Time seemed to almost stop for him as he waited for Sam’s reaction.

He was thousands of years old, he had stood and watched an entire lifespan before now, yet that wait seemed nothing in comparison to what he was experiencing at that very moment.

Time seemed to just drag on.

The anticipation rattled through him and he found his other hand clenching, willing the feelings inside of him to just stop, to let him breathe.

It was not a sensation he was used to.

"Huh, that explains a lot." Sam murmured, twisting his face slightly so it rubbed against the fabric of Castiel's robe.

The angel was just so warm and comfy.

His fingers gripped and ungripped at the folds where the two edges joined, rubbing the material in between them, relishing the feeling- it was so soft, it almost felt like he was laying on marshmallows.

Or clouds.

Briefly, he wondered if Castiel had ever sat on one of them.

He felt a vibration running through him and glanced back up at his friend, whose touch had returned to him. He drew his eyebrows together as he realised the motion was caused by the angel laughing, his head tucked in to his chest and teeth showing as he let out the sound.

It took him a moment to figure out why.

“Did I say that out loud?”

Castiel nodded, patting the man’s shoulder twice, he couldn’t find the will within him to stop his body from reacting to his amusement. He didn’t know why he was so worried, he should have picked up on the obvious- Sam had found out and hadn’t even tried to move away from him. That should have told him more than he needed to know before words were even spoken.

“Which bit?” Sam asked, his mortification levels quickly raising, his cheeks flushing pink.

Castiel just laughed more.

“You asked about sitting on clouds,” He clarified.

Sam nodded and sniffed,  he supposed it could have been worse.

He laid still for a moment as Castiel’s motions ceased, before curiosity got the better of him.

“Have you ever tried to?” He continued, earning himself a raised eyebrow from the angel.

“ Clouds are masses of condensed vapours Sam, I think we can rule that out as an option given angles are roughly 400 metres in height.”

Sam let go of the material, laying his hand flat across Cas' chest instead as Castiel moved his other arm over  to brush the hair out of Sam’s face.

“You guys must weigh a tonne.” Sam said, so matter of factly that Castiel had to wonder had he been drinking again.

With that thought, he rested his palm on his forehead for a second before pulling it away, rubbing his fingers together to try and get rid of the moisture that settled there.

Now that explained a lot.

“I think you have a fever.”Castiel stated and when his actions did nothing to remove the sweat on his hand, he reached around and dried it on the bed sheets instead.

Sam nodded.

“Sounds about right.”

He pulled the blankets up to his chin and tried to bury himself more into the angel, he was still so cold and Castiel was like a furnace.

"You stopped, some nights." He added, changing the subject back again once he settled himself to his contentment. His mind was already working through all the different memories he held over the past few weeks - The nights he woke with Castiel there, the nights he didn't and the nights in-between which were unbearable and restless.

"Yes."

Castiel dropped his gaze, looking away, but he held Sam tighter, wanting him close, wanting to apologise for the times he didn't help when he clearly had the power too. He wanted nothing more than to steer him off that particular topic. Sam didn't ever need to be thinking about  Lucifer torturing him, especially not when he was already unwell.

"Why?" He questioned, his head moving back to its original position, his eyes dropping closed. He was starting to lose to the pull of sleep again but tried his hardest to concentrate long enough to hear what the angel had to say. His chest tightened and he let out the cough he was fighting so hard to keep at bay.

"You didn't know I was there, it didn't feel right." Castiel admitted, carefully putting his other arm around Sam, so he was holding him with both. He wasn’t sure providing more warmth to someone with a temperature was a good idea but he wasn’t going to deny him. Sam knew what he needed better than he did.

Sam considered that for a moment, but did not reopen his eyes.

"I know now."

Castiel smiled and gave his arm a gentle squeeze

Yes he did and given the reaction, he didn’t know why he had never stuck around in the mornings to tell him sooner.

" Does it bother you?" He asked although he was sure he already knew the answer - Still it was nice to get a verbal confirmation of it too.

"No.You make a nice pillow." He muffled, his face turning back into his chest and his own arm moving to rest his hand on Castiel’s far shoulder.

The angel smiled fondly in response, wondering just how red Sam's face would go in the morning when he remembered this with the clarity a fever did not allow.

He pulled his arm back slightly so it rested  across Sam's abdomen instead  and closed his eyes when he was sure Sam’s would not reopen in turn.

Tiredness had set in for him too and honestly couldn’t think of a better way to experience sleep for the first time than with Sam wrapped in his embrace.

 

\--------------------------

 

Castiel wasn't sure how much time  passed but it was suddenly light out and Sam was jerking away from him. Sleepily he opened his eyes and craned his neck to the right to look for the hunter.

He had  half expected to find him halfway across the room so was surprised to see he was still in the bed, just sitting up rubbing the back of his neck rather than laying down practically on top of him.

When Sam registered Cas' movement, he glanced towards him, a sheepish look on his face.

"Sorry."

Castiel smiled and sat up himself, picking apart Sam’s actions - while his original movement seemed to be out of embarrassment, he remained rubbing at his neck, in larger circles as time went on. Eventually he gave up with that and started tilting his head side to side, as if to stretch the muscles beneath. He also rolled his shoulders a few times.

It didn't take long for Castiel to concluded with a frown that he must have been sore. He had seemed to be having stiffness problems before they had gone to sleep as well but he had hoped the rest would have helped.

Apparently that was not the case.

"There is no need to be." He replied, earning himself a soft smile from the hunter whose head ducked, causing his hair to fall in front of his eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

Sam ran his fingers like a comb through his hair with both hands, brushing it back and out of his way as he answered.

“A bit - I’m not about to start asking you about clouds again  anytime soon.” He turned his head back around to face him and flashed an embarrassed smile. He didn't wait for any response from the angel before looking away again and making to stand up, trying to stretch  out his back as much as possible.

He was far too tall to try and sleep that small.

Castiel almost burst at the seams from that look alone. However he did not fail to pick up on the underlining meaning that came with the statement -Sam had not forgotten their conversation during the night and he was making sure Castiel didn’t doubt that either.

"I really need to find a way to contact Dean, before he blows a gasket.” Sam continued as he walked around the bed and towards the window. He pulled the curtains open slightly, to allow more light in.

Though Sam did not see it, Castiel nodded, blowing a gasket was probably a very fair assessment of what was happening on the other side of the ocean.

"Where is my coat?" Cas asked and Sam turned to gave him a weird look, wondering why he was seemingly brushing over his statement. Still he answered all the same.

"Bathroom, was going to wash our clothes in the sink last night but-" He trailed off, that reason was self explanatory.

Castiel nodded again.

"Your phone is in my pocket." Sam's attention snapped to him, his forehead creasing in confusion. The angel was just telling him this now? " He was ringing quite a bit during your detox and it was upsetting you, so I turned it off."

Sam frowned at that and Castiel quickly continued, realising that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

"I did answer it first to tell him you were with me.” he added. The last thing he wanted was Sam thinking he’d left Dean completely unaware of his location. He was annoyed with his lack of ability to deal with his emotions sure, but he was not cruel enough to leave him in the dark.

He also knew better than most, that the Winchester’s bond was not something to be messed with.

Sam raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Like that would make any difference to his brother. He flinched at just the thought of some of the word’s Dean would have been calling the angel in the past however many days.  It was probably a good thing Cas’ couldn’t hear his prayers anymore.

Without saying a word he turned around and headed to the bathroom.

He closed the door behind him and Castiel sat awkwardly still for a moment , unsure if he had done something wrong or not. Every time it had rung, Sam had lost it, as if some sort of past memory was being triggered by the sound. Taking it away from him and switching it off had seemed the most logical answer at the time.

Still, perhaps he should have come up a different solution after all.

Slowly he got up out of the bed too, and threw the covers into a messy pile in the middle.  If he had stepped out of place Sam would tell him  when he got of the phone, he was almost certain of that.

He studied the blankets for a moment, considering whether he should do something else with them, they had been very neat and strategically placed when they had arrived after all.

Still it wasn’t a particularly appealing task.

Pulling a face he reached for an edge and picked it up, holding it in the air for a moment. Then he dropped it again and turned to take a look out of the window instead. They were probably not leaving today, putting blankets neatly seemed like such a pointless thing to do when they would just get messed up again later.

He would never understand the little rituals human’s came up with.

They certainly liked to waste their time.

He heard the chain flush in the background but did not turn away from the sight below him. The people out on the now ice covered lake looked like nothing but small dots to him, barely recognisable. He couldn’t see their souls, couldn't tell a single thing about them other than the fact they apparently liked to get wet during the winter.

Before he would have known their life stories in one fleeting glance, recognised them again if he was to see them on another day. Now that couldn't be further from the truth.

He should have been able to hear their voices, know the path they were destined to walk down, know their approximate lifespan, with absolutely no effort on his part. No matter how hard he tried however, he just couldn't access that information any more and he didn't know if he would ever be able to again.

He looked away, leaning his weight back against the window sill - it was like a part of him was missing, his grace so dwindled down to nothing, that it might as well not even have been there at all.

He was always aware of the consequences of defying heaven, knew the second he tried to stop Lucifer rising that that was it for him. Still he had prepared himself for his grace to fade away slowly, he had thought he had so much more time to adjust. He never imagined it would just vanish in one last blast, leaving him feeling like he was in a sort of limbo.

“Dean I’m putting you on speaker.” He heard Sam say, the door creaking open as he walked back into the room, phone in hand. He glanced towards Castiel and rolled his eyes as he indicated down to the gadget.

The conversation must have been going well, Castiel decided.

He couldn’t help the small smile which tugged at the corner of his lips at the sight of Sam and the light that danced behind his pupils.

It was worth it, it was all worth it if it meant his eyes would never reflect the hell fire he was always supposed to be destined for.

“ Finland Sam Finland!” Dean’s voice called out. He sounded beyond aggravated and Castiel was suddenly grateful he was going to have time to calm down before they saw him.

“Yeah long story.” Sam replied stepping further into the room and holding out the phone so Castiel could hear him better.

“What was that son of a bitch thinking?” Dean continued, causing the angel to grind his teeth and stand up straighter.

“Don't- he was just trying to help and he can hear you.”

Sam flashed him an apologetic smile, one in Castiel’s opinion, was completely unnecessary.  He knew Dean was never going to thank him for what he did. He had been making decisions where Sam was concerned since he was four years old, he was never going to take someone else interfering with that well.

Still he had no regrets.

Not a single one.

Not if it meant Sam would continue smiling.

“Good! Because I’m telling you now Cas, if you EVER even think of pulling a stunt like that again…”

He left the threat hang in the air, allowing the angel to make his own mind up on what exactly would happen to him if he stepped out of line again.

Castiel took a step forward, a temper he hadn’t known flaring.

“You may have been comfortable with torturing your brother to death, but i wasn’t. Have no doubt, if I could turn back time I’d do the same thing again, without hesitation.”

Sam shot him a surprised look, but Castiel ignored it, his eyes focused on the phone.

There was a pause before Dean answered.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Castiel shook his head.

“I wasn’t being.”

“Cas!” Sam hissed, shaking his head and drawing his hand back and forth quickly across the side of his neck. The angle frowned, not having a clue what that signal was supposed to mean, still he picked up on the warning in Sam’s tone and stopped. If he didn’t want Dean to know what happened, then he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Sammy? You okay??” The concern in his tone was evident and Sam grimaced, that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have over the phone.

“I'm fine Dean.” He ignored the raised eyebrow Cas shot his way.

Yes he was completely fine, death, walking hallucinations and fever were an every day part of normal human life. The angel shook his head.

A dictionary, he had to get Sam a dictionary.

“You sure? You're good? No demon blood cravings or-?” There was a strange rumbling noise in the background that drowned out the rest of Dean’s question. Sam pulled a face at the phone.

“What was that?” He asked, his eyebrows drawing together, it sounded familiar, but surely it couldn’t have been what he thought it was.

“What was what?”

Something out of the corner of Cas’ eye caught his attention and he turned his head to look out the window again, tilting it to one side as he took in the snowflakes slowly falling. He watched them with curiosity, they looked so different to when he was able to see them as nothing more than single atoms bunched together. 

He put his hand to the glass, trying to feel the coldness they were giving out.

“That noise?” He heard Sam say, but he could feel his eyes on him, paying his actions more attention than anything else.

“I'm in a airport what do you think it is?” Came the sarcastic reply and Sam’s eyes immediately darted back to the phone, widening considerably.

“Wait you're flying here?” He asked, disbelief evident in his tone. It took Castiel a moment to remember a passing comment made by the brothers’ some time ago about Dean’s particular fear of the planes.

“Well i was. But seeing as i got hold of you, Cas’ can just fly you back now right?”

Sam scratched at the back of his neck and shared an awkward look with the angel.

“Urrr yeah about that….”

Castiel didn't hear the rest of the conversation as there was a knock at the door and Sam quickly shut the phone of speaker and walked back into the bathroom. He indicated with his hand as he left and Castiel quickly made his way around the bed to answer it.

Now that was a hand gesture he had come to understand.

As he pulled back the door, he was greeted by a tall bloke holding out a tray of food. Castiel studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he had seen him before.

He had mucky blonde hair, a beard and was quite firmly built. It was obvious he was used to quite physical tasks and dressed in a way that suggested he spent a lot of time outside. Other than that though, his mind drew a blank about him, knowing no more than the casual observer would.

He really did not like that he found.

"It is good to see you awake." The man stated and Castiel squinted in confusion, looking him up and down. "I'm Emmet, we helped bring you and your companion here. Sam seemed to leave a lasting impression on our receptionist and she insisted on me bringing food to you." he handed the plate over and glanced inside.

Castiel took it but regarded him with suspicion.

For all he knew he could be a demon.

"Sam's on the phone." He stated once he realised the man was probably looking for him.

Emmett nodded but carried on glancing inside his attention landing on the bed, Castiel narrowed his eyes more and drew the door slightly further closed, blocking most of the room out of his line of sight.

He didn’t trust the man, he decided.

Emmet smirked all the same.

"Taidat oli hauskaa" He laughed and  turned to leave before Castiel could respond.

With a frown, the angel closed the door and headed towards the nearest unit to put the tray down on.

Once it was safe, he repeated the words in his head and looked around, confused.

_They looked like they had fun doing what exactly?_

 

\----------------

 

It wasn’t long after that Sam came back into the room tossing the phone onto the bed .

“Dean’s going to grab you a passport and make his way over here.”  He stated, his eyes drawing together as they landed on the food.

“Emmet.” Castiel replied as a way of an explanation, his eyes not once leaving the plates, he seemed to be taking in every detail of each thing that was placed on them, almost like he was trying to work out every ingredient which went into them. “ Are any of these marshmallows?”

Sam paused, wondering why on earth he would ask something like that, then his mind flashed back to the previous night and he winced.

“You told me I didn’t say that part.”

Castiel turned to look at him, the most innocent expression on his face as he moved his shoulders up and then back down again, as he had seen Sam do many times before.

He smiled as Sam snorted and buried his face in his hands.

“God Cas”  He said as he pulled his  hands away, shaking his head and glancing towards the food again.  Now that he thought about it he really was hungry.  Ignoring Cas’ question completely he headed towards him, eyeing the selection up carefully. “ Okay, so How do you feel about breakfast and a movie?”

Castiel just tilted his head.

 

\----------

 

It was just over an hour into some film, the tray of food long empty, when Sam's eyes widened and  he turned  his head to face the angel like he had just been stung.

"You speak Enochian!”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. While he was used to Sam coming out with some rather unarranged statements by now, that one really did seem like it came from nowhere.

"Yes..” He replied with a look of confusion. Sam seemed almost excited by the prospect, like he was just undertaking some sort of complex jigsaw puzzle in his mind. Castiel decided he liked the way this made his eyes practically sparkle with joy, knowledge and Sam really did fit together perfectly.

“And  you speak English to us.” This time Castiel just nodded, wondering if  his train of thought was going anywhere or if the fever was stepping itself up a gear. “This is finnish!”

The angel just blinked as Sam’s arm jolted out to point to the TV, like he had just discovered a new star.

He didn’t reply right away, figuring he was probably missing something obvious as he drew his eyes together. He went over the words in his head again and again, trying to work out if they held a relevance to scene currently playing or anything they had been talking about before. After deciding they didn’t he shook his head.

“Sam I fail to understand the relevance of these statements?"

"Right. " Sam laughed , as if it only just dawned on him how ridiculous he sounded."Just, does that mean  you can speak any language?"

He licked his lips as he waited for the answer, all to eager to learn more.

Castiel smiled, a direct question he could work with, even if he still did not understand where it was coming from.

"All tongues come from the word of God, Angels can indeed communicate in them all."

He shifted his body so it was facing more towards Sam then it was the TV, the hunter was far more interesting than some put together piece that made no sense in the grand scheme of things. Some of the quotes they were coming out with had been massively misinterpreted by who ever put the production together.

“But your Grace is gone, how can you still…?” He trailed off, but Castiel got the meaning behind the question anyway.

“My grace held my power, that may be gone but my knowledge is not, I still remember everything I did when I was connected to my garrison.”

“Oh my... Cas!" Castiel raised his other eyebrow, as Sam’s hands grasped onto his arm, shaking it. “So you can understand what those people are saying.” He indicated to the TV again and Castiel nodded, finally grasping on to what was going on in Sam’s head.

“And you can't.” He clarified, Sam shook his head with a laugh. While he had been able to pick up on some words through a process of elimination, he still had no idea what they were saying for the majority of the time. “So why are we watching something you can't follow?”

“Well I get the jist of it?” His voice was slightly defensive but Castiel could not work out why, he had not meant it as some sort of insult.

“How? If you can't understand their speech?” He questioned,  his eyes focused entirely on Sam’s, he wanted to convey his need for understanding this time and not somehow end up offending him again.

Sam shook his head, dropping his hold on the angel. He seemed to be concentrating hard on coming up with an answer which would explain everything in the most uncomplicated way as possible.

“Body language can tell you just as much as words can... like those two, they're having an affair.”  He pointed towards the screen as Castiel followed his finger in confusion. He squinted as his gaze landed on two characters sat side by side at a table.

“They are not discussing that.”  He pointed out, wondering if for once Sam had got it wrong. The woman’s husband had not long left the scene and while he understood what an affair was, those two were just sat there talking about  their work, nothing about the unholy adultery they wanted,-or were- currently undertaking.

Sam bowed his head and laughed, brushing his hair behind his ears.

“They don't need to be! Look how they are sitting they are so close and she's leaning into him - She’s even playing with her hair, that’s standard flirting.”

Castiel did not look convinced as he looked from the screen, to Sam and back again, his forehead wrinkled. Sam decided he needed to elaborate.

“Communication is 55% body language. You can tell a lot about someone and their intentions from their actions alone.”

Castiel’s confusion  only deepened as he eyed Sam warily.

“And leaning towards someone means you are having sexual intercourse with them?”

This only caused Sam  to laugh as he leant his head back against the pillows and rested it in the direction of the angel.

“No, well not exclusively anyway - it just means you're comfortable with them in your space, and want them as close as possible for as long as possible...That just happens to be something that goes hand in hand with romantic relationships a lot of the time.”

Castiel nodded, his eyes widening in comprehension.

“It shows a desire for intimacy?”  

“Exactly!” Sam grinned, his eyes following Castiel’s back to the screen and then away from it and towards his own body. They held a level of suspicion in them, as they looked him up and down, then they noticeably grew in size, like something had just clicked in his mind.

Sam seemed to realise his position at the same time as the angel, his face paling as  he quickly shifted, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat with a rough couple of coughs.

The entire time he had been speaking, he hadn't even thought to check just what his body language was giving off.

"Of course that's - urr - that's not always the case- it’s umm…” his mouth opened and closed a few times, his brain drawing up a blank as he tried desperately to find a way to explain. He tried again and again before his panic brought on another, rather convenient this time, coughing fit. “ I'm going to get a glass of water." He eventually settled on , the words coming out in a rush as he got to his feet and awkwardly shuffled out of the room.

He hoped more than anything Castiel hadn't figured it out.

He didn't want to loose his friend over something he knew was never going to happen.

Castiel watched him leave then turned his head back to the screen, his own mouth slightly open as he registered exactly what he’d just learnt

 

_Well that was an unexpected_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. My accident proneness cost me 300quid as i fell and took my laptop with me. Something REALLY did not want me posting that last scene (And the first one of the next chapter) As the first time i wrote it out, my computer lost the document, then it got pushed to the next chapter, then when iw as finally ready to use it, my laptop goes to the big guy in the sky. 
> 
> ITS A CONSPIRACY I TELL YA.
> 
> I kind of hate the middle bit but i think it was necessary or Dean will just be turning up conveniently with a passport for Cas with no explanation. The next chapter is already nearly finished as i had to split this one in two due to length/
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and hope you all had a great new year!


	16. Chapter 16

While Castiel was aware of Sam leaving, he barely registered his movements, a cloud of confusion filling up his mind.

 

_Sam held desires for him?_

_Since when?_

 

He drew his legs up underneath him and placed his elbows to his thighs, resting his head on top of his hands in contemplation.

 

_Wasn't_ _that something he should have picked up on?_

_Something they should have discussed before now?_

 

His thoughts were dashing about in his head, jumping from one to another. Just the effort of trying to get them to calm was giving him the taste of his first real headache.

He heard the sound of a woman’s high pitched laugh and  turned his attention back to the tv screen. He could see what Sam had meant by the two characters that had sparked all this now. They were pressing their bodies closer together, whispering in each other’s ears, their eyes almost holding a separate conversation to their lips.

He furrowed his brow, he was almost certain that Sam had never been that obvious with him.

He knew the hunter regarded him highly. The looks he gave him sometimes made that point  abundantly clear.  Still he never thought it went further than him just being in awe of his nature.

In fact the more time they spent together, the more he expected that look to fade of completely. After all, to borrow Dean’s words, 'angel’s were dicks', and he was hardly deserving of such admiration.

Thinking about it now though, he realized that Sam had never really stopped treating him as if he was on a pedestal.

Letting out a long breath, he ducked his head and  tried to cast his mind back to all the times he had been with Sam. He could not help but wonder whether there were moments in these instances that he should have paid more attention to. If there were any signs that could have given him some sort of forewarning.

Given his memory capacity, this was not a difficult task. Interpreting it however was.

He thought about the talks they had, the research they did, the times they were in the same room together but never spoke, with great scrutiny. Trying to pick apart every action Sam made to see if he could place another meaning to them.

He soon frowned when he found himself drawing a blank. If Sam had been giving off any signals in the past then they were too subtle for him to register now.

He scrunched his face up and tried to will his mind to concentrate harder, to look deeper.

It was to no avail.

He just could not pinpoint a time when Sam had shown any indication that he was attracted to him.

He let out a sigh, wondering what it was about him that Sam actually desired. As far as he could tell, Sam had never expressed any interest in males before, although he had to admit he never paid close attention to his history in that area. Jess had been the catalyst that shot him back into the hunting world, everyone else before her held little importance.  

Or so he thought at the time.

Suddenly Castiel’s eyes widened, warning bells sounding as the memory of his conversation just a few days ago with Dean was brought into the forecourt of his mind.

 

_Of course, why was he even questioning this?_

 

Sam’s tendency to fall for the person not the gender had already been explained to him.

That was what Dean had meant. That was why he was asking him not to hurt his little brother.

He sat up straighter and glanced towards the closed door. He could not fathom how things had passed him by so easily.

Had he been quicker to understand human communication methods, then perhaps Sam wouldn't have felt the need to run away from him. Wouldn't have been hiding out of sheer awkwardness.

He shook his head, there was nothing he could do about that now. He was focusing on the wrong thing for the time being.

Rather than working out what he had missed, his attention should have been on the much more pressing question.-

 

_Did he hold the same desires for Sam?_

 

\---------------------------------

 

Sam lent over the sink, his hands clenching hold of either side of the marble structure.

He knew there was no point in even pretending Castiel hadn't figured out exactly what he felt for him.

You could practically see the cogs turning in the angel’s mind as he looked between the fictional couple and how Sam himself was sat.  He could just imagine a slot machine ringing through the air as it all fell into place for him.

Sam cursed.

He had always tried to be so careful, so in control of his actions around Castiel, so nothing like this would ever slip through. Despite his talk on body language however, apparently it hadn't ever crossed his mind to double check his own.

It was that carelessness that was going to cost him everything.

The hunter groaned and hung his head, breathing deeply to try and contain the panic that was growing inside of him and the ever building anger he felt towards himself for making such a stupid, avoidable mistake.

Everything was going to change now and there was nothing he could do about it.

He wouldn't insult Castiel’s intelligence by even trying to act like it was some big misunderstanding. He deserved better than that.

Sam swore again, loosened his grip and thumped the edge of the sink in frustration.

 

_What the hell had he done?_

 

He ignored the ripple of pain that shot up his arm from the blow and reached out to the turn the tap on instead, splashing water  continuously into his face.

There was no way Castiel would ever want to hold him again now, not when he knew about the inappropriate thoughts that were forming as a misinterpretation of his kindness.

He probably wouldn't even want to be near him. As if a creature of light could entertain the idea of being that intimate with a monster like him. His speech on his soul was one thing, but this, this went so much further than an obligated reassurance.

 

_What was he supposed to do now?_

_How was he ever meant to go back into that room?_

 

He wanted nothing more than to be able to turn back time, to stop himself from ever putting Castiel in the position he just had. Hell he wanted to go back further, to make sure he never confided in the angel in the first place.

If Castiel did not know what he was going through, he’d never feel the need to help him.

Never get closer to him.

Everything could go back to how it was meant to be. Cas would come for Dean and Dean only, they would talk the bare minimum when the case required it and would never have to deal with the awkwardness Sam had placed on them.

 

_It would be perfect._

 

Perfect that is, if his gut didn't twist painfully at just the thought.

He shook his head and tried to stop the plague of emotions which were running through him.

How could he even contemplate erasing their friendship?

It meant everything to him.

Cas meant everything to him.

 

His eyes watered, but he refused to allow them to release a single drop. He placed a hand up to his throat, almost convinced there was something there, strangling him.

He felt nothing, but  there was just this pressure. An unexplainable amount of pressure - a lump forming in his throat, expanding, ripping his pipe at the seams.

He glanced up into the mirror, pressing his fingers into the very top of his chest. There had to be a ghost, or something, bruising, anything to explain why it was so damn difficult to breathe.

There wasn't.

 

Slowly he moved his hand to his eyes, rubbing them with his fingertips to wipe any traces of liquid away.

He saw his reflection smirk and turned his back, he really was losing it and being in there, on his own, wasn't helping matters.

Gradually, he sucked in a breathe, resting himself backwards against the counter as he attempted to brace himself for what was to come.

He had to go back out there. He knew he did.

He had to face the angel and accept the distance that would forever be between them.

Taking another steady breathe to try and control himself he made to take a step forward, then sunk right back again.

 

_He couldn’t do this._

 

He bit down on his lip and tapped his fingers on the surface they lay against.

 

_Surely a few more minutes wouldn't hurt?_

 

Just a few minutes to live out his ‘what if’s’, before his world was broken apart.

 

\--------------------------------

 

A few minutes turned into over an hour, with both parties just staring at the door that separated them. Sam, trying to work up the courage he needed to go out there, Castiel, trying to work out what the hell it was he wanted.

When Sam finally walked back into the room, he was carrying a glass of water with him, his movements stiff and reluctant. Castiel’s attention shot up to him in an instant, but his expression didn't hold any emotion the hunter could interpret.

"I was starting to think you had climbed out the window." Castiel proclaimed when silence was all that greeted him. Seeing as Sam held the same body language as the woman in the film, the angel did not think it was a too long a stretch to presume he’d taken on her escape route as well.

"Tried, wasn't big enough." Sam replied behind a curtain of his hair, surprising himself with how easy he found it to respond. Slowly he brushed it out of the way and awkwardly looked over to the angel.  Every instinct was telling him he couldn't do this yet, that he needed to get out of there. His feet however seemed like they had glued themselves to the spot. No matter how much he yelled at them to move, they refused to co-operate and take him away from his friend.

Castiel offered him a small smile, hoping the gesture would help him feel slightly more comfortable.

“I am not displeased by that.”

He wanted to say something else, to find a way to break the tension that seemed to fill the air between them, but was unsure how to go about it. He was not particularly equipped for dealing with these things.

Sometimes he really wished humanity came with an instruction manual.

Sam was taken aback by the statement but tried his hardest all the same not to believe that it meant something.

Hesitantly he walked towards the bed and held  the glass out to the angel.

Castiel squinted at him.

"I don't require any water."

"No- Not...usually. But you've never been thirsty before so i figured you wouldn’t know if you…were...” He trailed off, his hand hovering between them. He glanced away when Castiel made no move to take the water and rolled his eyes at himself, _What was he doing?_ Gingerly he withdrew his hand. He should have known it was a really stupid idea.

An hour locked in a bathroom and that was all he could come up with?

Castiel regarded the liquid with suspicion  for a moment as he watched Sam’s retreating arm, When he had been offered food before, he had accepted, curious on the taste; the water however didn’t appeal to any of the buds on his tongue and he did not feel like he particularly wanted it either.

He was about to deny it again, turning his eyes to Sam’s to tell him straight;  the look on Sam's face stopped him cold however.

He looked like he’d just been punched in the gut.

Castiel frowned, not understanding the significance of taking a glass. He was turning down water, there was no need for Sam to take that personally. Yet that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. Without wasting another second he reached out and took what had been offered, making a show of sipping the liquid once he had acquired it. He did not want Sam to end up thinking he was rejecting anything from him. Drinking was a small price to pay if it made that expression disappear.

He was slightly startled by how his throat sang in response to the refreshment it bought. How the scratchy feeling that was there, eased in an instant.

Perhaps he had needed it after all.

If Sam was surprised by the change of heart, he didn’t show it. He refused to look at the angel as he wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing at them to try and create some sort of  heat from the friction. He really did not feel good and all of this was not helping.

"You're still cold." Castiel stated, watching him carefully. He wanted nothing more than for him to get back under the covers but if he wasn’t comfortable with it then he certainly wasn’t going to suggest it. He just wished he knew the words to make the whole mess pass over already, to help make Sam understand that everything really was okay.

"Pretty sure I'm never going to warm up." Sam replied.

A shiver ran up his body, but he was unsure if it was because of his condition or because of  the thoughts that were raging in his head.

Castiel swung his legs over the side of the mattress and stood up, turning around to face Sam, he made to walk forward, his arms out.

“Sam.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he took a step back.

 

He couldn’t deal with this.

Pity kindness of all things.

 

“I urr, I’m just going to go… find somewhere to wash our clothes.. I’ll see you later.”

He turned, rushing back into the bathroom to grab the soiled materials. Of all the things he expected, that was so much worse.  The angel outright telling him how wrong his feeling were, he could have dealt with, he’d prepared for that. This though, this he couldn’t face right now.

The pretense that everything was normal, that nothing was going to change.

Castiel stepped forward.

“Sam.” He tried again, one arm out to reach for him this time.

Sam shook his head.

 

No, no he couldn’t do this.  A touch that would lead to a hug, then a talk. A talk that would be so much harder to take in with his smell still lingering on his skin. He couldn’t stomach it. If Castiel wouldn’t put everything out in the open now then he couldn’t just stay there.

 

He couldn’t pretend.

 

Avoidance may not have been key, but he couldn’t take this.

He just wasn’t strong enough.

Folding the washing under his arm, he shrugged past the angel and headed towards the exit.

“Sam!” Castiel raised his voice this time, throwing his arms to the side in exasperation.

He was gone before he could try again.

The door slamming closed behind him.

 

\---------------------------

 

Handily, the place had a laundry room in its basement, which was where Castiel found Sam some time later. He was sat on one of the unused washing machines, watching their clothes spin in the drier in front of him.

The angel remained in the doorway for a moment, undetected as he watched Sam rub his palms together, his jaw locked. He looked to be in a deep form of contemplation and his forehead was shining, showing the moisture which had been accumulating there. If it wasn’t for the fact he knew what Sam had been through, Cas would have put that down to the intensity of the lights above him.

Even he could feel the heat coming from them and he was a good few feet away.

As Sam squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his temple’s, Castiel took a step forward. As much as he enjoyed observing him, he’d come down there for a reason.

“I’d like us to skip ahead.”

Sam’s head shot to the doorway in an instant, his eyebrows drawing together.

“What?”  He asked, placing his hands down on his lap, studying the angel carefully as he walked towards him. He had expected he’d show up sooner or later but that certainly wasn’t the words he thought would follow his arrival.

“I believe there is a superstition among humans that things come in three’s. - You have slammed a door on me twice today. I would like us to skip the third.” He had learnt that from a case Dean had dealt with months back. It seemed appropriate to use now. He just hoped Sam would get the message placed within it - that he did not wish him to leave again.

Sam puffed out a half suppressed noise of amusement and shook his head.

“Things don’t have to have happened on the same day. The -urr- famine thing, kind of means we’ve done the third already.”

Castiel nodded, turning so he could stand directly to the side of Sam.

“Then by those rules, you can’t run again”

“I’m not running.” Castiel raised his eyebrows, _of course he wasn’t_ … and he wasn’t currently sat on appliance either. Sam looked away as he took in the expression he received and shrugged in defeat. Castiel really was getting less impassive by the day. “Look.” He paused, turning his head to the side to face the angel. “This isn't easy for me okay? Can we just go back to how things were before I ever told you about the nightmares and pretend none of this ever happened.”

 

Castiel’s face went blank.

“Is that what you want?”

Sam shook his head. What he wanted was to just curl back up in bed with him, to carry on talking for hours about anything and everything. He wanted nothing to change, hell  he wanted Castiel to share his feelings and tell him as much. He knew that could never be the case however and it was pointless to even give those thoughts the time of day.

“No, but it’s what I need, I can't have this conversation with you. You knowing changes everything. There’s no point pretending it doesn’t.” He looked over to the drier, counting the minutes that he had left until the cycle finished.

Castiel followed his gaze.

 

“It doesn't have to.” He said softly, trying to catch Sam’s eye out of the corner of his own. He didn’t understand why what had happened was supposed to change things. If Sam liked him like that, then why was he pushing him away?

“Yes it does.” Sam contradicted with a sigh. “For my own sanity it does. Its to hard.”

“Then let me make it easier.” He reached out, to run his hand through Sam’s hair, but the hunter squirmed and moved away, putting as much distance between them as the machine would allow.

He couldn’t have Castiel touching him, not knowing how revolted he must have been by the admission. Even if he was too kind to come out and say otherwise.

 

The angel frowned at the reaction and narrowed his eyes.

He did not like this situation. Not one bit.

Sam was not meant to be uncomfortable around him.

He dropped his hand all the same, frowning even more when Sam then refused to look back at him.

He shook his head, not understanding what it was that was bothering him. How Sam could desire him, but not want him close? Didn't those tings go hand in hand?

Nothing had changed about either of them, well except-

“Is it because I  no longer have my grace?” he asked, his voice low as he took a step back, giving Sam the space he so clearly wanted.

 

That made Sam look at him.

“What?”

“You always seemed to hold me highly, but I am powerless now. That, changes things for you?” He was pretty certain he had got it right. It made sense, He was nothing like he was when they first met, when Sam had looked at him with eyes full of amazement. He was practically an insect compared to the angel he once was. Of course, that would affect how Sam felt.

“Of course it doesn’t! I care about you, not your powers!” He couldn’t comprehend how Castiel could possibly think that.  Did he really come across that shallow? That power hungry?

He always wondered what the angel’s opinion of him was, if it had changed since their first meeting, now he wished he was still none the wiser. He was still just the boy with the demon blood, Castiel had just learnt to tolerate him, it was never anything more than that.

“Then why do you not want me near you?” None of this made any sense to him. He needed Sam to explain it. If it wasn’t the powers, then what was it? Why couldn’t Sam bring himself to be touched by him?

“Because!” Sam snapped, getting down of the machine and walking towards the one that held their clothes.

 

30 seconds.

 

Castiel just looked on in irritation, he was going to need more than that if he ever hoped to understand.

Sam exhaled hard.

“Cas, I don’t know what you think of me, but I know its nothing good.” When Castiel went to interrupt, he held his hand up to stop him. “What my soul looks like aside… I know you're just trying to be nice, to help prevent me from ever saying yes, and I appreciate it I do! But I need you to stop now.” He placed his hands on top of the machine and rested his weight down on them.”Stop being kind, stop acting like you care,  stop pretending you don’t know how I feel.”

 

Castiel took a step forward.

“You’re feelings do not concern me.”

Sam sucked in a breathe and froze.

If he thought he was being strangled before, it was nothing in comparison to what he felt like  now.

Well he had asked him to stop pretending, maybe everything had always been an act, even the kindness. Just another way to keep him under control. 

“Got it.” He eventually managed to say, his voice rough and uneven. He turned away, swallowing hard as he tried desperately to keep anything bottled up inside. While he usually admired Castiel’s bluntness, for once he found himself wishing he would at least try and sugar coat things.

Because that stung.

It really did.

He was relieved when the counter reached zero and he was able to pull their clothes out of the machine - it gave him something to do, something else to focus on other than those little words.

 

Castiel tilted his head, watching him in concern.

That was not meant to cause the colour to drain from the hunter’s face. In fact it was meant to have the opposite effect. Carefully, he repeated the words in his mind. They sounded right? Though obviously they weren’t if Sam took issue with them.

“Let... me rephrase... that” Communicating in English wasn’t always easy for him, it was such a backwards language, perhaps he had not arranged the words carefully enough.

While he communicated in it daily now, it did not change the fact his thoughts were in Enochian and he had to translate everything before speaking. Perhaps the meaning behind his words,  got lost in that translation.

Though he did not see how.

“No, no its fine, Cas, really.” Sam continued and Castiel almost growled.

 

_‘Fine’_

 

He was beginning to really detest that word.

“Listen to me Sam.” he tried again, determination entering his tone. He had to make this right, make him understand.

Sam shook his head. It felt like everything inside of him was being torn apart. The little hope he held, having a chainsaw taken to it.

“No, There is no need! I get it, you don’t have to say it again.” _Please don’t say it again._

He had expected the truth to hurt, but hadn’t for even a moment considered it would cause this much of a reaction within him.

 

“Sam!”

 

Sam shook his head, picking up what was his and backing away. It was too much. He couldn’t stand there and listen to the angel describe just how much he didn’t mean to him.

Castiel drew his lips together, and shot his arm out, reaching and wrapping his hand around Sam’s arm to prevent him from going anywhere. He had this horrible feeling if he didn’t right this wrong now, then that would be it. Sam would never stay around him long enough for him to try again.

“Let go.” Sam said quietly, dangerously. he tried to turn away but Castiel tightened his hold, turning him back around to look him in the eye. The tone of his voice surprised him, yet he supposed he shouldn’t have been, half the supernatural population were not scared of Sam Winchester without reason.

Still, despite this and his now human status, his answer did not change.

 

“No.”

 

Sam locked his jaw, almost as if he was trying to put up a barricade on his emotions, before he forced his head down to look  at the angel.

Castiel was taken aback to see, despite the anger swimming in his eyes, the sheer amount of hurt he failed to conceal. He really had chosen the wrong words it seemed.

_“Please.”_ If Sam hadn’t have already known how he felt about the angel before, his body was making it indisputably clear to him now. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand being there with him without his composure breaking completely.

Castiel still shook his head. “Listen!”

He could feel his aggravation levels rising. He just wanted the chance to explain, to get through Sam’s stubbornness and tell him exactly what he had meant.

Sam tugged harder.

“Castiel!”

He yanked his arm out of his grip in seconds, the clothes he was carrying falling to the floor. He made no move to pick them up, not wanting to give the angel the time to react. He bulldozed past him and headed straight  towards the archway.

Castiel was on his heel in seconds, his hands finding their way  to Sam’s elbows this time, gripping hold of them and spinning him back around once more. He shoved him backwards, pinning him into a machine.

“Would you just listen to me!”

They both froze as the sound of shattering glass filled the room and the light above them burst, parts of Castiel’s true voice seeping into the air. For a moment, neither of them moved, their eyes locked on the damage he had caused. There wasn’t a piece of glass left that didn’t have at least a crack running down it.

Water seemed to be seeping onto the floor from one of the washing machines, a puddle almost hitting their feet.

“It’s not all gone then…” Sam said quietly, stunned, as his eyes found their way back to the angels.

Castiel slowly looked from the shattered glass, back to Sam, his expression blank. Then his eyes seemed to gather some clarity and he let go of him in an instant, taking a step back in horror. He had not meant to do that. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to control himself. He had forgotten, for just a split second he had forgotten, given way to his anger, slipped into the soldier he once was.

That was not a mistake he could ever make again, not with Sam.

 

“My apologise Sam”

The hunter shook his head, moving himself into a more open space.

“You don’t need to apologies.”

Castiel adverted his eyes for a second, making sure what ever grace that was left inside of him stayed buried as far down as he could get it.

Then he snapped them back to Sam’s.

He would say it right this time.

“Yes I do, for that, and upsetting you. You are incredibly important to me, do not doubt that.”,

Sam did not look entirely convinced. His eyebrows raised as if he had just been told monsters didn’t really exist.

Making sure there was not even a hint of uncertainty in Sam’s expression, Castiel reached out and gently cupped his wrists. He didn’t understand how Sam could not see himself as he did, but he was determined to change that.

“I would not say it if that was not true. What I meant before was your feelings towards me do not…” He paused and looked away, trying to come up with a word which would not upset Sam this time. “..trouble me.” He decided upon and looked back. “ If you really want things to change, then I will respect that. But know that I don’t. I dont want to loose the connection we have, It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”

Sam gave him a sad smile., his head ducking as he spoke. “But not in the way you mean to me.”

And that was essentially the problem, they could never mean the same to each other and no amount of talking could ever change how much knowing that hurt.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Sam looked back up at him in confusion. “I honestly don't know. I sat up there, trying to figure it out. But I couldn’t. As an angel I have never felt the desires that you have, but that does not mean anything, The truth is I can’t even begin to describe the range of emotions I experience when it comes to you.”

Castiel let his touch on one hand go, lifting his arm to place his hand on Sam’s neck instead, running his thumb across his cheek.

Sam was pretty sure his heart literally skipped a beat. “Okay?”

 

“You are...happiness and…” He trailed off, trying to desperately find some way to describe what exactly Sam was to him. He never found words difficult before, but everything was different with Sam. He was the boy who made his grace flare, that filled him with a warmth that he’d never encountered before. He knew not how to explain that though, to form a word that put everything he felt into one. “The thought of not being close to you, is intangible to me. This, has not been based on  a desire to stop Lucifer, but a need to be by your side. Do you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see strength, worth, kindness, a man deserving of all the care the angels have never bestowed on him. You have made mistakes, but its your actions following them I respect the most.”

“Cas…” Sam’s eyes filled with water, but the look on his face showed the angel it was not down to distress or pain. He closed his eyes as Castiel ran his hand back further, trailing his thumb behind Sam’s ear and down his hairline.

“I dont know why you doubt it, how you could ever think otherwise. But I do care, I care so much for you. Do not push me away.”

He squeezed Sam’s wrist gently, wanting there to be little doubt of the truth in his words.

Sam looked at him with guarded eyes, but there was something else, shimmering beneath the surface and Castiel wanted nothing more than to grab it with all his might.

Carefully, keeping his eyes on Sam to make sure he wasn’t going to object, he raised his hand that still held Sam’s and placed a soft kiss to his fingers. He kept his lips there for a second, inhaling Sam’s scent before dropping their hands again, not once breaking eye contact.

The hunter looked like he was in some sort of daze, sucking in a breathe  as their hands fell to their sides. He had pretty much every emotion going running through him as he tried to process what had just happened.

What it all meant.

“Okay...I don't really know where that leaves us.” He admitted, though he made no move to run away this time.

Castiel smiled.

 

“Neither do I,  can we not just be us?” A piece of glass fell to the floor , dropping from  one of the  broken lights.Their attention quickly shot to it and  Castiel pulled a face. “ Perhaps not here however.” He didn’t know how different, people of different cultures were, but he knew enough to know humans did not react well to their possessions being broken by another.

Sam snorted, his eyes wandering back around the room.

“Yeah maybe we should high tail it out of here.”

Castiel nodded all too seriously, registering for the first time the footsteps which were heading down the stairs towards  them.

Sam seemed to pick up on them too and quickly reached for Castiel’s clothes, tossing them in his direction as he went to gather his own.

The angel didn’t have time to put them on however as Sam soon reached for his arm, pulling  him towards the doorway.

He could get dressed once they were safely out of the crime zone. They rushed up the stairs, brushing past a man on his way down.

By the time they got to the top, an almighty shout was heard from below them.  Not letting go of Castiel, Sam headed to where he remembered seeing a public bathroom and quickly pulled him inside. Slamming the door shut and using his body to barricade it.

He shifted a laugh as he glanced towards the confused angel.

“Man I feel like a naughty school kid running from the principal .”He threw his head back, not being able to hold it in anymore. Castiel almost marveled at the sight. Sam’s laugh was fast becoming his favorite noise of all time. He did not think he would ever tire of hearing it.

All too quickly he stopped, his face sobering up as he realized he still had hold of the angel’s arm. He instantly let go, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck and rubbing at it sheepishly.

“You should get dressed… We’re probably better off going to meet Dean of his flight, rather than staying here.”

Castiel nodded and reached down to untie his rob. Sam quickly adverted his eyes, dropping his hands awkwardly to  his sides. The air around them seemed to shift, holding that same atmosphere as before.

The angel frowned as he pulled on his trousers, realizing despite their talk Sam was still uncomfortable around him.

 “Sam...”

The hunter slowly looked back but the angel found himself at a loss of what else to say. Eventually he stopped trying to find something and returned to getting dressed.

Sam’s eyes fell to the floor. “It will just take time.”

Castiel could only nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, I got so stuck with writing this. Had about 7 different versions. Up until i posted this still didnt know which one to go for. Hopefully made the right decision! Thanks for reading


	17. Chapter 17

_It will just take time._

That was what Sam had told him as they left the lodge, but that was hours ago now and Castiel was unsure how much more time he could let just slip them by. They were talking, so there was that, but their conversations often fell short, resulting in long uncomfortable silences.

The angel sighed and leant back into the metal frame he was sitting on. It was cold and uncomfortable but after being at the airport for so long he was starting to get used to it. He presumed another plane was due to land soon judging by the amount of people that were gathering around the gate. Sam had said it was common practise to meet loved ones off their flight like this. Personally, Castiel couldn’t see why half of them bothered to turn up. He had seen more enthusiasm from wild animals than he had the last couple who greeted each other in front of him.

“Onko kukaan istuu täällä?”

Castiel looked up, studying the female that had  spoken with confusion. She was tall and slim, with a small child held in her arms. There were more children of varying heights also stood around her. She raised her eyebrows and the angel squinted, trying to work out what he had just been asked. It was only when she gestured to the space to his left that he found understanding drawing upon him.

For a moment,  he considered telling her yes, that the seat was in fact occupied, but then he glanced to his right and a small smile crept onto his features.

He could use this to his advantage, he realised.

Firmly shaking his head, he shifted along the bench and held his palm out in offering. The woman smiled, muttering her gratitude as she took a seat, placing the child down beside her. The other children soon followed suit, taking up the rest of the bench with ease.

Castiel's smile only got wider as he turned away, his eyes travelling towards the direction Sam had gone off in, several flights ago.

The hunter had claimed to have needed to get something from the shop, but Castiel was beginning to wonder if that was just an excuse. Not that he could blame him if it were- While he was often unable to sense awkwardness, it was definitely not escaping his attention this time.

If he was honest, when Sam had left, he was grateful for the reprieve. Now though, he was finding he was somewhat missing the other's company.

His eyes widened when over the heads of the crowd, he saw a familiar flop of brown hair heading towards him. He instantly tried to sit up straighter- a task which would have been much easier, if his rear end wasn’t so numb.

As Sam spotted him, Cas offered up a small smile in greeting.  The hunter returned the gesture immediately but paused as the bench came properly into view. Their once empty space was now filled with other people. Trying his best not to let his smile falter, he swallowed and hesitantly squeezed into the space Cas had left for him on the end.

Castiel couldn't help but relish in his own geniusness as Sam’s arm brushed against his own- leaving the unnatural gap which had settled between them, a thing of the past.

He quickly wiped the smirk which was forming from his face however as he noticed Sam eying him suspiciously.

As nonchalantly as possible he turned his head to face the hunter, trying his best to portray nothing but innocence. He had seen Sam use that very look on Dean many times before with varying degrees of success . He just hoped he copied the expression accurately enough.

He was rather pleased with himself to say the least when Sam simply narrowed his eyes and looked away.

“Dean should be out soon, his plane has finished unboarding.” The hunter announced, his attention locked on the screen ahead of them.

Following his gaze, Castiel squinted up at it. While Sam had tried to explain the meaning of the board several times since they had gotten there, he was still clueless on how on earth it worked.

After a pause, he replied “And that is why you bought alcohol?”

He gestured down to container Sam was holding tightly in his hands, his eyes scrutinising the liquid.

The man nodded and for a moment Castiel thought that was all he was going to get. He looked down to the ground, pursing his lips in disappointment.  

Maybe this was just how things were going to be now.

Sam shot a glance towards him before closing his eyes and leaning forward, resting his weight onto his elbows. He  took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as if to calm himself, then reopened his eyes and turned his attention back to Castiel.

“He's going to need it when he finds out he has to get straight back on a plane.” He confessed, surprising the angel. His voice was tight, forced, but at this stage Castiel would take what he could get.

"Because Dean does not like flying?" He coaxed, casting his eyes to the side warily.  He found himself watching the hunter carefully, waiting for his response with unease. He did not want to say the wrong thing and cause the conversation come to its end.

Sam shook his head.

"No he does not." He chewed at his tongue as he mulled over his next words and Castiel could only just bring himself to breathe, afraid the littlest thing would disturb his thought pattern and send them spiralling back into silence. "He's more scared of them than he has ever been scared of demons."

Castiel quirked his head to the side, the statement forcing him to wonder if Dean’s fears had any real weight behind them. He was certainly not one to be afraid without due cause.

"I see."

Sam drew his lips together, his fingers tapping at the edges of the glass bottle as he nodded.

Castiel opened his mouth, wanting to continue, but finding himself at a loss for what to say.

The air around them thickened and the angel deflated, knowing they were right back where they had started.

He looked away, out to the planes, completely missing the muted curse that left Sam's lips and the pained expression that was quickly sent his way.

\---------------------------------------

Heading through the baggage reclaim space, Dean practically dragged his feet - walking at a much slower pace than what he normally would. One of his hands secured his bag to his back, the other clutched hold of his phone. His eyes were locked onto the device, a pit of dread forming in his stomach.

He read and reread the text Sam had sent him, feeling a little more queasy each time.

_‘Had to leg it, waiting in arrivals for you, booked the next flight back’’_

He let his body deflate as reality set in and shoved his phone into his jeans pocket. He was going to have to spend close to 24 consecutive hours on various planes.

He shuddered at just the thought.

Who the hell bought return tickets that quickly? It hardly seemed fair, Sam got the nice little holiday while he was trapped in his own worst nightmare.

He could feel his heart  pulsing erratically in his chest, refusing to calm down after the ordeal.

The little alcohol he had managed to consume before boarding, had long ago left his system.

Shakily, he brought his hand to the back of his neck, squeaking it as he tried to regain control.

Realising he was one of the last to leave the gate, Dean took a steadying breath and crammed the last of his nerves into a box in his mind. He would not allow the angel to see him like this or his threats would never mean anything again.

Stepping around the final wall, his eyes quickly scanned the area he appeared in, searching out the familiar giant. Thankfully it did not take him long to spot him,  he stuck out like a sore thumb - him and his socially awkward looking mate.

Without wasting another minute, he charged towards them, but found himself pausing as their appearance hit him. Sam was sat up straight, in control over his posture in a way that seemed to suggest someone was extremely uncomfortable. Castiel on the other hand, seemed to be missing a sock of all things, his bare ankle on display for the world to see. He was sat almost robotically, his legs crossed over each other.

They were both looking in opposite directions and Dean watched with raised eyebrows as one at a time they turned to say something to the other, bottled it and looked away again.

He would have thought they had had one hell of an argument if it wasn’t for the fact they were practically sat on top of each other.

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he continued on his approach.

Being stuck on a 9 hour flight to South Dakota with them was going to be _fun_.

“Sam!” He called out, raising his hand and giving a brief wave to catch the man’s attention. It worked and the younger Winchester quickly got to his feet, his expression resembling for a second, a deer caught in headlights.

Dean practically scoffed.

He didn’t even want to know.

“Hey how was the flight?” Sam replied, taking a few steps forward and offering out the bottle he had been so tightly holding on to. Dean accepted it within seconds, unscrewing the lid and pouring as much of it as he could get into his mouth without spillage.

He smiled as the familiar burn travelled down his throat and then carefully went to take another sip, this time swilling the liquid around in his mouth. To anyone else, it would have looked like he was trying to really savour the taste, but in reality he was using the time to take note of his brother’s appearance. He looked sweaty, on the verge of some sort of sickness, but aside from that he couldn’t see anything which would sound the alarm bells.

“Don’t even ask.”  He croaked, letting out a sound of satisfaction as he drew the bottle away from his lips. He found his eyes wandering to the jumper Sam was wearing and eyed the high neck suspiciously, almost trying to see the skin beneath it. The last time Sam had worn something like that was when he was trying to hide the hickeys a teenage girl had given him back in high school.

His attention shifted to  the approaching Castiel and he narrowed his eyes, slowly putting the lid back on his drink.

“Hello Dean.” The angel spoke and Sam took an almost unnoticeable step to the side.

Dean shook his head, the anger he felt towards the angel clicking back into place. He balled his hands into fists, lowering the bottle to his side. He looked him right in the eye and locked his jaw. He may have had time to calm down, but seeing him in person was bringing it all back.

The house had gone quiet and he’d barely gotten to the kitchen before he had noticed it. He had raced down those stairs, taking them two at a time and lunged at the door. He had been terrified he was about to find his little brother dead, only to be greeted by something so much worse. He had rang and rang and rang Sam’s number for hours, pacing, searching, torturing a few demons he could get his hands on for information. Bobby had tried to calm him, but it was to no effect. He just wanted Sam home and safe.

He had almost crushed his phone when Castiel finally answered, only for him to barely explain anything. Seething didn’t even begin to describe the way his blood boiled as the line went dead.

He took a step forward, biting down hard with his front teeth.

He had promised Sam when they had spoken that he wouldn’t lose it with the angel, that he’d try and give him a chance to explain. Looking at him now however, he wasn’t sure he could keep to his word.

“Hello?.” He growled." You kidnap my brother and all you have got to say to me is hello?"

"Yes."

Dean's eyes narrowed into slits, not quite believing what he was hearing. His palms shook as he tried to control himself and he just about noticed Sam’s eyes widen before he lunged forward, grabbing Castiel by the collar.

“Do you have any idea what you put me through?”

Sam held his hands up, placing them on either side of Dean’s chest as he stepped in between them.

“Woah! Dean Stop!” He pushed hard with his palms, trying to get the older man to take a step back. His eyes darted around the airport as he noticed the people who were quickly using them as a spectator sport.

“I just wanted to help.” Castiel continued, his face as straight as ever. Given that he must have been covered by at least some escaping saliva, he was staying remarkably calm.

Dean drew his lips into a thin line, his breathing deepening.

_Help?_

Help would have been answering the phone on his first call. Or telling him where they had gone. Anything could have been happening to his little brother and he wouldn’t have had a clue.It was his job to protect Sam and he had been taken from right under his nose.

How could he ever be okay with that?

“By buggering off to FINLAND of all places? Your lucky I didn’t leave your ass stranded here.” He tightened his grip, pushing back so his knuckles pressed into Castiel’s collar bones. He had honestly considered it, right up until he got onto the plane with the newly acquired passport. It was only the knowledge that Sam would never come home without the angel, which stopped him from throwing it straight in the bin.

“Dean let go!” Sam demanded, his voice low, his head bowed slightly as he tried to make his brother look him in the eye. “Dean!”

Dean’s eyes flashed to Sam’s but that was all that was needed for his will to break. As he was pushed again, he found his fists unclenching and with great struggle he tore his hands away -  his eyes locked on his brother’s determined face.

He held his hands out flat in surrender and took a step back, making a show of glancing around at the small crowd.

“Fine.” He hissed, exhaling hard.

Sam nodded, though he did not make a move to reposition himself. He dropped his own hands, yet he kept one up from his side slightly, his fingers twitching, just encase he needed to intervene again.

Castiel simply blinked, unphased as he brushed down his shirt.

“This isn't over!” Dean hissed, pointing a finger down at the angel. It was too public for a proper confrontation now, but that wouldn’t always be the case and he certainly had no intention of just letting the matter drop.

“Yes it is!” Sam warned and his tone left no room for argument.

Dean raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sheer level of protectiveness that was glistening in his brother’s eyes. He glanced to Castiel, whose attention had moved to Sam, his facial features suddenly coming alive again.

He frowned and watched in bewilderment as the angel smiled, reaching his arm out to  cup Sam’s elbow in thanks. He squeezed it gently, his fingers almost rhythmically stroking along the bone.

Sam shyly returned the smile, his eyes locking with his friend’s and Dean found his mouth dropping open as he looked between them.

“Got yourself a real knight in shining armour their Cas.” He muttered, shaking his head slightly. He was of course joking, Castiel was probably at the bottom of the list of people who need a bodyguard. This fact seemed to bother neither of them however and of all the reactions he expected, he honestly did not foresee Castiel’s smile turning into a full fledged grin, or the blush which quickly crept onto Sam’s cheeks.

He pulled a face when they did not break eye contact and turned away.

If this was what the rest of the day had in store for him, then he was gunna need a sick bag.

\----------------------------------------

Standing in the departures lounge, in front of the tunnel which would lead them down to the plane, Dean leant back against the check in desk, flashing the attendant a flirty smile. They were the last people due to board and the woman was waiting to do a final check on their tickets. Unfortunately they had run into a bit of a problem when the news channel announced a plane crash over in Germany.

For once though, it was not him who was holding them up, having consumed enough alcohol to keep him in a semi happy place for the time being.

While the broadcast had indeed freaked him out, it was no where near to the amount it had their resident angel. Dean honestly thought his eyes were about to bulge out of his head as he took in the wreckage.

Sam had been trying to convince him to board the plane ever since.

The woman checked her watch for perhaps the third time, before pressing the intercom once again to announce the gate would be closing soon.

Dean rolled his eyes, already knowing they were keeping her from her final smoke.

“Are we going or not?” He called out, twisting around to face his companions who were stood by the window overlooking the runway.

Sam was the only one to even acknowledge he heard him as he waved his hand in a ‘shhhing’ motion.

Dean pulled a face and turned back around.

“His first time on a plane.” He tried to explain, but the woman's deadpan expression showed she cared little for that information.

He scoffed and closed his eyes, trying to force the buzz to stay in place.

“There is nothing to worry about.” He heard Sam say and he could just imagine him wrapping his arms around Castiel and patting his head like a child.

Reluctantly he looked back over to them and soon found himself raising an eyebrow. While Sam only had his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, with the look on his face he might as well have been doing the petting.

“I am sure the passengers in Germany thought that too” Castiel replied completely deadpan as he glanced down to machine below.

“Well yes." He couldn't really argue with that one "But lightening doesn't strike twice."

The angel narrowed his eyes, diverting his attention back to Sam.

“Lightning did not cause that plane to crash." He didn't know why he was lying to him, he had seen the news story, heard the suspected verdict loud and clear. There was no point blaming divine wrath when human fault had already been declared.

"No, I know, it's just a saying Cas." Sam protested, but the look he received stopped him from even trying to explain further. "I promise you, nothing is going to happen.” he smiled softly, reassuringly, trying to ignore the pair of eyes he felt staring at him from the other side of the room.

Castiel looked far from convinced and the crease in his forehead deepened. “Have your visions come back?”

Sam dropped his arm, looking slightly taken aback and Dean raised his eyebrows.

“What no???” He sounded horrified, his lips curling up at just the thought.

Castiel took no notice of this however. “Then you have no possible way of knowing that.”

Dean snorted and Sam shot him a look which would have made even Crowley squirm . The older hunter could practically hear the unspoken ‘you're not helping’ being flung towards him. He simply shrugged in response however.

If his brother was going to fall in love with an angel, then he was going to take up the responsibility for him all on his own.  
  
“Not for sure, no,” Sam admitted, trying to blank out Dean completely. “But less than 1 in 11 million flights crash."

Castiel scrunched up his nose, gazing up at him as if he had said the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Dean quite frankly found that completely understandable.

"We are in the midst of an apocalypse, I hardly think that data remains accurate, do you?"

Sam sighed and Dean shot a worried look towards the flight attendant, who instantly looked up from her computer and pulled a face.

“Would you prefer to take a boat?” Sam asked, already trying to map out how possible it would be.

Castiel frowned even more.

“No.”

“Well then we don't have much choice. Cas we are going to miss the flight. Come on,  it's fine. If we crash I give you permission to haunt me for the rest of eternity.”

He held his hand out, gesturing to the clock on the wall. They literally only had a few minutes left before the gates closed and while there was another flight due out in the morning he was neither sure he could get Dean on it, or sleep on the benches the airport provided.

"Angels don't have souls, I'm incapable of haunting anyone."

Dean winced, straightening himself up and taking a few steps forward. He didn't have to see the woman's face to know she was already contemplating putting them on the 'no fly' list.

Angels and the apocalypse - they were lucky they weren't getting chased down the runway by security.

He walked closer, intending on intervening but stopped as he watched Sam, quickly take hold of Castiel’s hands.

"I refuse to believe that. If monster's have an afterlife, there is no way angels don't. You're too pure to just fade away."

"Sam..." Cas said softly, quietly, his whole posture changing. It was almost like he melted and Dean found himself covering his mouth as he tried to resist the urge to gag. If he wanted to watch a love fest he would have rented the titanic. 

“Trust me Castiel, the plane is safe and _we will be fine_."

If this was a romance novel, Dean was pretty sure now was the point they were meant to fall hopelessly into each others arms.

Cas looked down at their entwined fingers and the squeeze of reassurance that Sam seemed to be giving him. He felt strange, his body reacting to the touch as if electricity was running between them. His eyes flickered up to catch Sam's and he suddenly had a feeling that he wasn't just referring to just the flight anymore.

Ever so slowly he nodded his head, the movement barely visible.

“You always have my trust.”

Sam's face broke into a grin and Dean swore he could almost hear the chirping birds in the background as little love hearts danced around them.

He put a hand to his face,  rubbing at the edges of eyes. A part of him wanted to give them a minute, the other half wanted to throw bucket of water over them.

He settled for clearing his throat.

Two sets of eyes immediately turned to him, both seemingly have forgotten he was even there.

"Gates closing, are we going or not?" He asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

Sam dropped one of Castiel's hands and patiently waited for the angel's confirmation. When his shoulders eventually dropped in defeat, he tuned to face Dean and nodded.

“Then come on.” He stepped to the side, signalling for them to go first. It was only after they passed him, he realised they were still holding on to each other.

He shook his head, pulling a face as he followed after them.

No amount of alcohol in the world was going to be enough to get him through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know its been ages I'm so sorry. I wrote so much for this chapter i just had to cut it down. Brightside i have like half of the next one written if i choose to use it so next update wont be long.
> 
> I will however take a vote - Do you want to read some of the plane ride. Which is a whole lot of Sam and Dean talking about *stuff* or should i just skip ahead and they can get to that another time?


	18. Chapter 18

Dean tried, honestly he tried.

He tried to ignore it, to cast his eyes aside, to sleep, hell he’d even taken to staring out of the opposite window and counting the clouds.

For the first hour  it was easy, Sam and Cas were talking, explaining to him some of the stuff that had transpired while they were gone. He said ‘some’ because from the looks they were giving each other he was pretty damn sure they were editing certain bits out. (He had a strong suspicion that he should be grateful for that one as well.)

But after that? It got a little bit harder.

The turbulence distracted him for a while, along with the air hostess, he even managed to kill a good 20 minutes scaring the man in the aisle seat next to him half to death. That hadn't been the intention when they had struck up a conversation, but certain comments about his brother we’re not going to be tolerated, even if Sam wasn't awake to hear them at the time.

He was allowed to feel nauseated by him, other people were not.

He’d left the whole plane in little doubt over that one.

Needless to say, there was now an empty space to his left.

Grunting, he rested his elbow on the armrest next to him and rubbed at one of his eyebrows. Sam, who was sat beside him, had woken up about an hour ago and had been staring at Castiel’s sleeping form ever since.

The whole thing was getting harder and harder for Dean to ignore.

He bit at his lip. watched the air hostess walk up and down the plane some more, drummed his fingers against his skin- he was willing to do anything at that point, in order to keep his thoughts to himself.

It worked, until Castiel’s head fell to Sam’s shoulder. 

This time, the groan that escaped him, caught the younger Winchester's attention.

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows drawing together and Dean couldn't help but look at him with condescension. _How could somebody be so oblivious?_

“Nothing.” He stated, shaking his head as he looked away and over to the walkway. It was none of his business and he planned to keep it that way. The last thing he wanted was to get into some debate about the ins and outs of his brother's relationship with their guardian angel. He could live without the mental pictures _thanks_.

Sam frowned, nudging him with his elbow.

“No go on, what?”

Dean rolled his eyes, not even needing to look at Sam to know the innocent 'you can tell me anything' expression which had fallen upon his features. They were probably one step away from the full on puppy dog eyes and in all his years, he had never once been able to resist them.

He sighed, resigned to his fate as he lent his head back into the seat.

“You realize you have not let go of Cas’ hand for about four hours now right?”

Sam’s attention snapped to the angel then slowly traveled down to their joined hands which were resting between each other. His eyes seemed to widen considerably when he registered what he was seeing.

Dean almost smirked as he watched the colour half drain and half raise up his brother’s cheeks.

Well that was a no then.

“Urrr.” Was the only sound Sam could make as he went to pull away, but Cas’ grip tightened in an instant, firmly preventing the split. Even in his sleep he knew he didn't want to let Sam go, his entire body practically curling into the warmth that Sam provided.

Sheepishly, Sam glanced back towards his brother, licking his lips as he shrugged the unoccupied shoulder. He seriously hadn’t even noticed what they were doing. 

He found himself looking back down at their hands, taking in every detail of each little finger. In comparison to Cas’, his were huge, but they slotted together so perfectly. It was like they were designed for only each other.

His forehead suddenly creased, his lips drawing into a thin line.

He shouldn’t have been thinking like that.

Those finger’s didn’t belong to the angel. It wasn’t right for him to be treating them like they did.

He tensed slightly, a frown firmly falling into place.

Dean closed his eyes, thumping his head back against the headrest. They had a system, a very good, very established system which had never in their lives failed them before.

The talk about their love lives never went much further than poking fun at each other. He was happy with it that way. Really he was, there was no need for chick flick conversations.

He folded his arms across his chest.

There was no need, except when his brother decided to be an awkward fucker.

“Look - Whatever is going on between you, is your business, but…”

He was quickly cut off.

“Nothing is going on.” Sam said, causing Dean to re open one eye, giving his little brother a look which clearly stated he wasn’t buying it. “Not really its…” Sam continued, but trailed off.

How on earth did he even begin to describe what was happening between them?

“.... complicated?” Dean finished for him and Sam shrugged, choosing to face forward rather than to take in his brother’s expression. They hadn’t settled on being anything but ‘them’ what ever that meant. The holding hands was certainly new, but it in no way felt that way. Was that still apart of being them? Or was it some sort of new declaration which meant the whole conversation had to be brought back up again?

God he certainly hoped not, but not knowing where the line was made it difficult for him to know what exactly was okay. What fell into their relationship spectrum and what was pointing them into dangerous territories.

“Yeah, it is, very complicated actually… you know he almost died saving me.” He didn’t know why he brought that up, they hadn’t said how Cas had lost his grace for a reason, ‘run out’ and ‘used up saving me’ were two completely different things really. Still he felt like he had to get that information out there, like it explained something somehow. Or maybe he just wanted to make doubly sure Dean eased up on the angel in the long run.

If Dean was surprised, he didn’t show it through his reactions- he merely raised an eyebrow.

“You never struck me as the type to put out to say thank you Sammy.” He replied, though his voice held no malice in it. Sam still felt the need to defend himself however.

“Its not like that!”

“No… I’m sure its not.” Sam was surprised to find no traces of sarcasm in his brother’s tone either. ” But you want it to be.”

He turned his head towards him completely and Sam sucked in a breathe, biting the bottom of his lip. Of all the conversations he thought he would have with his brother, this wasn’t ever one of them.

Yes he wanted to be, he wanted nothing more than the angel to be his, to touch him, to be with him in ways he wasn’t proud to admit.

Ways that went so far past friendship.

“Maybe.” He admitted, but that wasn’t the only issue he had to deal with. “But it’s not like anything like that can ever happen-  he’s not the only one in there.” He said the last part  more to himself than as something he wanted his brother to hear. Dean still picked up on it though and instantly frowned.

He could just tell from the expression Sam wore at that moment, that that was something he was struggling with.

“So.” He replied, his own eyes turning to focus on patterns on the seat in front of him.

Maybe they could do this, but they certainly couldn't maintain eye contact.

“So? We met the guy Dean, he hated being a vessel, he was aware of everything and hated it.”

“It’s not the same as demonic possession Sam.” Dean countered, a somewhat sympathetic look passing over his features. It didn’t take a genius to work out what Sam’s problem was. “It was his choice. He said yes.”

“To save his daughter, not because he wanted to. He has a wife, He was religious and I’m just…” He gestured down to his hand, sighing.

It was all such a complicated mess.

“He is not aware.” This time the voice belonged to Cas and they both turned to see the angel’s eyes open and his head pull away from Sam’s shoulder.

“What?” Sam asked, wondering just how long he had been awake for and how much he had actually heard. He swallowed hard, trying not to focus on that too much, he drive himself insane if he did.

“Jimmy - While if he tried, he would see everything I do, he doesn’t currently.” Castiel explained but that only caused the brothers to frown in confusion. He watched them for a moment, taking in each of their expressions, before his eyes settled on Sam and he tried to elaborate further. He was the one he wanted this to make the most senese to after all. “ I have never taken a vessel before, I was not aware of how painful it could be for them. After he said yes, he asked me to lock him away. He lives in memories of Amelia and Claire now, rather than in the present.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean? Does he have any idea you're on a plane right now?”

Castiel shook his head.

“No and he does not wish to either. Anything I feel or experience, he does not.” His eyes remained on Sam as he spoke. ”Unless one day he chooses too- I hope that settles things for you.”

Sam simply blinked, his mouth parting slightly as he tried to take it in.

Jimmy didn’t know, but did that make it okay?

Dean whistled and looked away, attempting to give them some sort of privacy. He might not have been able to actually avoid hearing them, but he could at least not be an active participant.

Still out of the corner of his eye he saw Castiel open his palm, allowing Sam to draw away if he so choose.

He couldn’t say he was at all surprised when Sam’s finger’s didn't even flicker.

\--------

“I expected this to bother you more.”

Dean peeled open his eyes, his head tilting just a fraction so he could look at his brother. He said it as if it was just a simple statement, though the older Winchester knew there was still an underlying question in there somewhere.

“Hate to tell you this Sammy, but I’ve had a while to get my head around the idea.” Sam creased his brow and Dean smirked. “You’ve not exactly been hiding it well.” If it had been anyone else his brother was crushing on, he was in little doubt that they would have picked up on it themselves long ago.

“Oh God.” Sam practically cringed, sinking down in his seat and bringing his spare hand to his face. Dean's shoulders shook and he threw his head back, this time out of laughter rather than annoyance.

Oh he was going to have so much fun with this.

“Just do me a favour alright?” He asked, sobering up slightly. “ Don’t let me walk in on anything which will result in  nightmares.”

Sam snorted, his chin tucking into his chest.

“Not going to be a problem.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. _He wasn’t seriously surely?_

_Did he completely zone out of their little exchange earlier or what?_

“Do you honestly not see it?” Sam gave him a weird look causing Dean to roll his eyes, his nostrils curling up slightly. The man was a hunter, trained to spot everything and anything, how on earth was this passing him by so easily? “Dude, he goes from a stoic robot to an almost passable human whenever he’s around you. I give it a week…”He paused, glancing upwards in thought. “Actually given its you two, better make that a month.”

Sam shook his head.

“You’re wrong.”

“We will see.”

The younger Winchester blew out of his nose, shaking his head again, this time in amusement. Okay so they weren’t exactly normal friends, but they were never going to be _that_.

Dean unfolded his arms, he wasn't going to argue about it, but he was planning a massive 'I told you so' when Sam eventually turned up with hickeys. He closed his eyes once again, fully intending to try and get some sleep. He could feel it though, Sam’s eyes travelling to him, him licking his lips, chewing on them, his mouth dropping open…

“Spit it out.” He could practically feel the confusion being sent his way. “Whatever you want to say, say it.” He continued. He wanted to switch off but that was never going to happen while his brother’s mind was practically shouting out to him.

For a moment Sam stayed quiet.

Then.

“Why did you never say anything?” His voice was hesitant and he kept his eyes locked on the patterns on the chair in front of him. He didn’t want to make this any harder on either of them then it had to be.

“About your crush? No offense but there are bigger things going on right now.”

“No, about the nightmares.”

Dean’s expression dropped, his eyes flickering open.

“Yours?” He asked carefully, though he already knew the answer, it was just a delay tactic really, to give him chance to think and to give Sam an out, if he suddenly changed his mind.

“Yeah.”

Dean shrugged.

“I didn’t know how to help. I know, when I got back from hell, I just wanted to forget about mine so-” He shrugged again because really what was he supposed to say? He thought he’d let his brother suffer alone? He thought someone else could deal with it? While both elements held some level of truth to them, they didn’t even begin to cover it.

“They're not so easy to forget.” Sam muttered. They were both just looking forward now and Sam found himself taking some comfort in the fact Cas’ hand was still gripping onto his, despite him having fallen back to sleep. 

“No, but Cas seemed to have it covered.” Dean replied. That only caused Sam to flash him a weird look.

“Since when are you happy with someone else looking out for me?”

Dean deflated, swallowing hard, before turning his head to the side to face Sam completely. “Honestly? Since you went so far of the reservation. Everything I did then, backfired. You still choose Ruby.”

Sam’s face hardened. He couldn't believe he was bringing that up again.

“And I’ve aplogised for that.” He didn’t know how many more times he could do just that and how many more times he could have it thrown back in his face. He knew he messed up, he knew what his bad decisions had caused, but he didn’t need to keep being reminded of it. And what? Did that mean that he  just wasn’t going to try any more?

Dean held his hand up, wanting Sam to let him finish.

“I know, but I couldn’t make a difference there, so this time, yeah, I left it to Cas. Not because I didn’t want to help you, but because I didn’t know how and Cas seemed to.” He dropped his hand, looking away. He didn’t want Sam to ever think he was giving up on him, that he wanted him to suffer, when it couldn’t have been further from the true. He’d tried everything back then and got it wrong, was it really so terrible that this time he figured he’d let someone else try? That he’d take that step back despite how every instinct was telling him to do otherwise.

Sam’ forehead creased up as he attempted to process what Dean was saying, but then something else hit him.

“Did you know what he was doing?” He didn’t mean for it to sound accusing, but he couldn’t help the trace of it that slipped into his tone. His stomach clenching with all sorts of possibilities.

Dean shook his head.

“No and I don’t ever want to.” His expression left no room for doubt  and Sam found himself relaxing again. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of Dean knowing made him feel really uneasy, the thought of them even discussing Cas practically cuddling him.... “Sam if you want to talk about them, talk, I’ll listen but I’m not going to ask.”

Sam’s eyes fell to the hand clasped in his.

“No… No its fine. As you said, Cas has got it.”

Dean sucked in a breathe.

“Okay then.” he nodded and closed his eyes again, this time trying his hardest to fall back asleep. He knew he was just avoiding continuing the conversation, but really what else was there to say?

Sam just sat staring at the pattern in front of him for a minute, unsure about how to deal with everything. Apart of him was relieved to know Dean and Cas hadn’t cooked up some elaborate scheme between them. Yet he still didn’t know what to think about Dean’s admission. How was he supposed to feel about his brother admitting he didn’t know how to help him any more? He couldn’t be mad at him for it, at least he wasn’t calling him a blood sucking freak again, but still. It felt weird.

Had they really gone that far? Had so much changed that Dean was at a loss?

He reached his spare hand up and rubbed at his temples.

His head hurt.

“Sam.”

He turned his attention to the angel in an instant.

His name wasn’t spoken how it usually was, it was softer, barely audible. A warmth spread through his chest when he realised it was said in the man’s sleep, his head drifting back onto Sam.

The hunter paused for a moment, then he sunk down in his seat, resting his cheek against the fluff of black hair. He could smell nothing but Cas at that angle and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

He closed his eyes and just let himself inhale as much of the man as possible.

He could deal with it all later, but he didn't know how long he was going to get to enjoy this.

\-------------------

“Oh baby I missed you. I’ll never leave you again.”

Sam smiled in amusement, sharing a look with a bewildered Cas as Dean placed his  hands over the hood of the Impala and traced his fingers along the work top.

“Do you want us to give you a minute?” He asked and Dean glared, walking around to the driver’s side and grasping hold of the door handle.

“Hey its your fault I had to leave her in the first place.” He unlocked the door and crouched inside, his hands wrapping around the steering wheel and sliding up and down the surface of it. He smiled, breathing in her smell before settling himself comfortably into the seat. He preferred her to those damn plane seats any day of the week.

Castiel frowned, stepping to Sam’s side as he cocked his head slightly.

“I was unaware car’s had designated genders.”

Sam laughed. “They don’t.”

“Hey I have had enough of your flirting to last a lifetime, so shut up and get in the damn car.” Dean called out, leaning over to the passenger seat and shouting out the slowly opening window.

It was Sam’s turn to glare.

He reached out all the same though, pulling the door open. He was just about to get inside, when he realized Castiel wasn’t moving. He turned back around to face him, his confusion deepening when he took in the angel’s face.

“Cas?” He questioned, furrowing his brow. “Dean’s just joking.”

Castiel’s expression was blank, however his eyes seemed to be hardening, as if he was struggling with something. It was subtle, barely there, but Sam could see it anyway and he immediately stepped forward.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice was full of concern. The angel hadn't given any indication that something was bothering him their entire trip, he hated to think something was and he was too wrapped up in other stuff to notice it.

Dean groaned, reaching out to switch the radio on and cranking the volume up.

He really couldn’t take anymore of this today.

“I. can’t. fly.” He said, his eyes travelling up to Sam’s. His expression broke in an instant, his mouth parting, his lips curling up in a form of distress. 

Sam frowned, looking at him in confusion. Had they not already established that?

“I know?” He didn’t know what else to say. He had seemed to be dealing with his lack of grace quite well. He supposed it was only natural it would hit him harder eventually though.

Cas looked at him horrified as if he had only just realized the significance of it all.

“Hey it’s okay!” Sam said as reached forward, placing his hand to the angel’s upper arm and squeezing it reassuringly.

“No, Sam, it’s not. Without my wings- how am I meant to find you?” Castiel replied, his eyes widening as a thousand thoughts hit him at once. He hadn’t realized how different things were going to be. He’d been so wrapped up in what was happening in Finland that he’d never thought about what his lack of grace would mean once they returned. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t heal them anymore, but he couldn’t go to them, couldn’t find them when ever he desired, couldn't help them in anyway.

It could take him days to get into contact with them now and if Micheal or Lucifer turned up, he had no way of protecting them either. 

He felt blind, disabled in a way.

Sam frowned even more.

“Find me? What are you talking about? You’re coming with us aren’t you?” He hadn’t for even a moment considered Cas leaving them. His chest tightened uncomfortably at just the possibility.

Castiel’s eyes immediately snapped to his.

“I am?” It had been just Sam and Dean for so long, he hadn’t thought they would want someone else permanently tagging along. Even when they hunted with Bobby, he tended to take another vehicle, giving them their space.

“Well… I mean… I just presumed…” Perhaps that had been his mistake, thinking that Castiel would even want to stay with them. Spending your life in a car was probably bottom of the barrel for a being of celestial intent. “Do you not want to?” he hated how his voice betrayed how desperate he was for him to say stay.

Castiel considered him carefully, wondering how, after everything, he could still even ask that.

“Of course, but I do not wish to be a burden to you.” An angel, without grace held little use, especially with the times they had fallen into. He did not want to travel with them, if he was just going to get in the way.

“Why would you be?” Sam asked, his expression pained. Castiel looked away, if Sam didn’t realize it, then he could not be the one to voice it and watch his opinion of him change. Sam seemed to understand anyway however, his face softening as he reached out and placed his second hand to Cas’ shoulder. “ Do you remember what I said to you in Bobby’s kitchen?”

Castiel squinted at him, trying to recall what they had spoken of. He remembered food being the primary focus but had a feeling that wasn’t what Sam was referring too.

“That - Family is not defined by power.”

Sam smiled, nodding and Castiel' face seemed to loose it's edge.

"We're a team, you me and Dean. We'll beat this together." He seemed so certain of that fact, that Castiel found he was almost convinced that they would be enough, that they could really win.

"Okay then." He replied, reaching his hand up to place it over the one Sam held to his arm.

Sam practically beamed.

“So are you sticking with us then?”

Castiel nodded. “If Dean does not object.”

They both turned to look through the passenger door, as if to silently ask him that very question. There was no need however as the older Winchester was already pointing over his shoulder.

“You're in the back and I have 1 rule, there ain’t having any funny business under this roof. So you can keep it to back alleys.”

He might have been forced to watch their little dance, but his car deserved (and would get), so much better than that.

Castiel’s face drew the most serious expression as he nodded firmly.

“Of course. You do not need to worry Dean- you have yet to understand any of my jokes anyway.”

Dean’s head turned to him in almost slow motion, a scowl firmly in place as Sam snorted, patting the angel's back.

_ Oh they were going to pay for that one. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it would be up quick :D Hope its okay!


	19. Chapter 19

 

Sighing Castiel leant back in his seat and allowed his head to drop against the window of the Impala. He had always known human transportation methods were snail paced, but he hadn't expected the sheer amount of boredom that that speed brought along for the ride.

Between the stationary times at airport, on the flight and now in the car, his body was practically begging him to jump on to a medieval rack and have his limbs stretched beyond what they could muster.

It wasn't that he wanted to endure the pain of it, but everything was just so confining and cramped. He felt like he was being squeezed into a space meant for a grasshopper.

It was uncomfortable and he just wanted to get out of there.

He was sick of staring at the same type of trees over and over. Sick of the smell of tarmac, the bumps in the road, the sight of squashed animals.

Even the jabbering on the radio was irritating him.

The banging, the screeches and the what-ever-else Dean claimed to be good music.

It made something throb inside his skull.

He closed his eyes and rubbed at the edges of his temple. They  felt strained, the muscles tight and unforgiving.  

It was tolerable at first but the longer they travelled for, the worse it got.

Was this really part of being human? Something he just had to endure?

He didn't know how people did it.

A car with its full beams on drove by and the angel flinched, trying to sink back away from the light.

It hurt to even look at.

He exhaled hard and when the vehicle passed completely he found himself glaring at the older Winchester with more disdain than he ever had before.

He wanted it all to stop and it felt like he was the one preventing it.

He tightened his lips together. He was almost certain if he were to look into the law of the roads, he would not find Dean's  'no stops, unless it's for gas' rule.

Even as the hunter said it, he knew he was just trying to piss him off. Revenge of sorts for taking his little brother.

He folded his arms across his chest, shifting his body about uncomfortably.

Perhaps he could reach out and give the man's chair a good kick.

He saw Sam glance in his direction, almost as if he heard the thought and quickly abandoned it. One Winchester mad at him was bad enough, he didn’t want to make it two.

Still it was tempting.

He watched as Sam turned back to send a look towards his brother and felt a small amount of anticipation build. Dean however seemed to refuse to acknowledge the action and instead reached to the radio to turn the volume up more.

Castiel's eyes turned to slits in seconds as he saw Dean's reflection smirk.

_The ass_

_He would get him back for this._

Sam seemed to pick up on his irritation levels and loudly cleared his throat, reaching out in turn to switch the music off completely. As Dean went to protest, Sam simply swatted his hand away in defiance. He had this funny feeling that one was for Dean's own good.

The angel exhaled slowly, enjoying the peace that the new found silence brought and the slight relief his eardrums craved.

It didn't last long however as Sam's voice soon reached them instead.

“So how many were there?” He asked, the question clearly directed towards his brother.

“A fair few and there’s probably been more since I left.” Dean replied, pulling a face and overlapping his arms on the steering wheel. Castiel soon felt the vehicle slowing down and his hands moved to grip the seat  beside him almost automatically. He had learnt the hard way that Dean’s turns often dislodged his balance.

The mark on his head was proof enough of that.

As anticipated, they quickly veered to the left and the angel found himself scowling at the cars that passed them by. He didn't know if it was because of them fearing the Winchesters, or because of some other sort of actual road rule, but every time they drove past his window, they seemed to speed up.

It made his stomach feel nauseous.

The motion was just too fast.

If he ever got his ability to time travel back, Nicolas Cugnot and him were going to be having some serious words about his mechanical designs.

In fact, he might even try relocating him to prevent the making of the blasted things in the first place.

“ ‘You think there could be some sort of spell influencing the town’s people?” Sam continued, his voice at a lower register than normal. He had an inkling Cas was actually suffering from the start of a migraine and wanted to try and be as quiet as possible.

Those things were a bitch, especially if you had never experienced one before.

Dean shook his head in response.

“Nah, their loved ones are back, they don't want to question it, I get it. If dad turned up on our doorstep I’m not sure I’d want to try and get rid of him either.”  

Sam smirked, his head turning in almost slow motion to face his brother.

“We don’t have a doorstep.” He remarked and Dean narrowed his eyes, turning his head briefly to glare at him.

“No one likes a smart ass.” He replied and Sam almost laughed.

Castiel watched them with curiosity - his attention switching from their interactions to the dimple in Sam's face as he smiled. As Sam continued to talk, it stayed there and Castiel found he could not look away. He didn't know why, but he was finding that one feature quite mesmerizing. He hadn't paid it much attention before, but now that Sam's cheek was the most prominent thing he could see, it was all he could see.

He shifted in his seat again, though this time he was unsure of the reason. He just suddenly felt... Different, his stomach clenching.

He could hear the Winchester's discussing things further, Sam continuously smiling, but didn't care enough to focus on their actual words. He could feel his heart beating, heavier, faster and took a drawn out breathe.

He wanted something else, something which wasn't caused through irritation, yet he could not put a name to it. Couldn't identify what his body was trying to tell him.

It made him even more uncomfortable.

The dimple on Sam's face disappeared as Dean said something else and Castiel had to force himself to look away, to try and calm his pulse.

He brought a hand up to his forehead and rested it there.

_What the hell was that about??_

He felt restless, a lump in his throat, a breathe he couldn't quite release,

He swallowed hard to try and subdue it and closed his eyes.

He had to refocus, had to get a grip on reality.

“If the dead are raising, there will be a sinister reason behind it.”

Sam and Dean simultaneously turned around to look at him, their shoulders dropping at the exact same second to allow more of twist in their bodies. Dean rolled his eyes rather quickly, muttering as he turned back around to face the road.

“Yeah, thanks for that Cas, real informative.”

Castiel blew out a breathe, Dean's voice scratching at the back of his mind. He drew his lips together, the sarcasm registering and narrowed his eyes.

That was better, that was a reaction he was familiar with.

“Dean.” Sam said through his teeth, shooting his brother a look of warning.

Castiel tried his hardest not to glance towards him, his eyes locked on Dean as the man smirked again and half shrugged a shoulder. From how quick the expression soon dropped, the angel could only imagine that Sam's face had turned to a picture of unamusement.

He did not dare look to find out however.

Dean soon turned away.

"You missed the turning." Sam said suddenly, his hand coming up to point at a road over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Dean replied, glancing sideways at him.

"To Bobby's" Sam clarified and Castiel twisted around to look at the surroundings. For some reason it all looked different to what he remembered from the last time he was there. Less structural points and variation in colour - green was green rather than travelling from artichoke to asparagus.

It was unsettling.

"No I didn’t, he asked us to stop at a motel tonight.”

Sam’s head snapped around to face his brother in an instant, his features questioning. He couldn’t  recall a single time they were in Sioux Falls where they had not slept at the scrap yard. Even when their dad was around and there was huge case that brought a few hunters to the area, Bobby was happy for them all to kip on his floor.

“Why?” He asked almost immediately, all sorts of suspicions running through his head.

“We all need our own bed’s apparently.” Dean replied, taking a right turn and pulling into a small car park. Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Dean..?"

Castiel tilted his head at the tone in Sam’s voice. He did not personally see anything off about the request. He needed to sleep now to and perhaps the man just did not want the trouble he could bring under his roof. There was bound to be angels looking for him. Especially Lucifer’s supporters. He was not family to Bobby Singer in the same way as the Winchesters were. It made sense for him to want to protect himself.

Dean however seemed to get exactly what Sam was implying. "Yeah I know, we'll deal with it tomorrow."

He pulled the Impala to a stop and looked around the empty car park with a frown.

“Okay, so where is everyone?”

\--

As motel room’s went, the Red Rock Inn’s accommodation was far from the worst they had ever stayed in. It had clearly been decorated quite recently, with warm yellow walls and leather chairs in the reception area. There was even a plant in the corner.

They stayed by the front desk, ringing the  bell for a good 20 minutes before Dean gave up and slid over the counter top.

The computer was off, the coffee mugs cold; with little bits of fluff floating on the surface. Dean pulled a face at that, claiming they had been festering for more than a day.

Castiel had no choice but to take his word for it.

The place seemed pretty abandoned by all accounts, but with no dead bodies to investigate, or at least any they could find, the three of them ended up in one of the ground floor rooms. It was long and narrow, fitting just the beds and a space in front of them to walk down. It also had a small living area through an adjoining archway at the end  with soft red furnishings and cable TV - though none of them made any attempts to switch it on.

The laptops had been out from the moment they got in, researching everything to do with zombies and news articles related to the town and the surrounding area. Castiel having no equipment of his own, sat close to Sam on the sofa, closer than perhaps Dean would allow if it were him. He was supposed to be providing a second pair of eyes on the text, but he was quickly finding he could not concentrate.

His heart rate had increased quite a bit again and he could not help but stare at Sam, taking in every inch of his features. He just wanted to see that damn dimple again and started trying to come up with ways to make him smile.

Every now and then, Sam would feel eyes on him and he would turn to look, though Castiel always managed to look away in time. He could not understand the instinct telling him to do so, but he felt compelled to listen all the same.

"Computer light is really bad for migraines, if it's hurting you why don't you go lie down. I got this." Sam said, reaching over and patting Cas twice on the knee.

The angel frowned. While his head did indeed still hurt, he didn't want to sleep. He certainly did not want to move further away from Sam either.

Dean slammed his own laptop shut, causing Cas to wince slightly for the second time that day.

He really wished he would stop making such loud noises.

"It's getting pretty late anyway.” The hunter stated as the clock struck midnight. “Cas want me to go grab another set of keys?”

Castiel squinted, not comprehending why he should want such a thing, or the relevance to it. Before he could say anything however, Sam spoke up.

"Can’t he just say here?" He looked hopeful and the angel couldn't help but bite his lip, Sam with that expression on his face should never go away.

Dean raised his eyebrow.

"And where exactly is he going to sleep?" The older Winchester eyed Sam suspiciously as he spoke, just daring him to suggest their Finnish sleeping arrangements. While he had no formal confirmation on this, a few snippets of what the angel had said was enough for him to draw a very plausible conclusion.

Sam’s eyes narrowed, his lips drawing together as he shot Dean his famous bitch face. Then he shook his head, and glanced down to where they were sat.

"Well... There's the couch, or he can have the bed and I can-"

Dean held his hand up in an instant and Castiel found himself frowning even more.

"Dinosaurs don't fit in bird nests Sam."

He perked up.

"That is not true, pterodactyls in particular often fed some of the smaller herbivores to their young during the-" he stopped talking, looking up in time to catch the look of disdain on Dean's face. He tilted his head questionably, wondering what exactly the problem was. Dean’s statement was false, so surely he was right to correct it?

He narrowed his eyes more. Then again perhaps it was that he took issue with.

His attention soon diverted to Sam, wondering if he would clear up the matter without a prompt.

“He just meant the couch isn't built for someone of my height.” He clarified quickly, shaking his head. Castiel nodded, now that was indisputable. He wasn't even sure his own vessel could lay out fully on what they were sat on.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean taking his plaid shirt off and he went to watch him move. He paused however when he caught a glimpse of a look falling on Sam’s face, one that he quickly found himself recognising. So instead, he waited patiently for what ever it was the younger man wanted to say. He was happy to hear it.

"Out of interest, just how accurate is our understanding of the Jurassic period?"

Castiel smiled fondly, as he considered the question for a moment.

"It varies, the terrain for example-"  he stopped as the lights went out and glanced towards where Dean once was. There was just about enough light left to allow them to make out the older hunter climbing into the furthest bed.

"If you nerds are seriously going to talk about this, go back down to reception." He grunted out, pulling at the covers and burying himself in them.

He was not at all surprised when he heard two figures vacating the room and couldn't help the small amount of hope that they would use the opportunity to get one of their own.

He didn’t care how long their little dance went on for, he would never be prepared enough to wake up to spooning.

-

Sam tossed about on the bed for perhaps the sixth time since they retired for the night. Try as he might he could just not manage to fall asleep. He found himself sitting up slightly so he could take a look over at Castiel. He was on the couch, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

It took a moment for Sam to realise his eyes seemed to be open.

"Cas you awake?" He asked softly, trying to keep his voice low, the last thing he wanted was to wake Dean.

"Yes." Came the reply, though he did not quieten his voice to the extent Sam did.

"Can't sleep either?" Sam continued, pulling the pillows up behind him to support his head and shoulders more.

"It appears not, how do you humans manage this every night." He replied and you could almost hear a grumble in his tone. Sam smiled, letting out a half suppressed puff of air in amusement. He was probably the worst person to ask that one too.

"Some not as well as others." Castiel moved his head, so he was looking over at Sam, though the bed was higher than the couch, which made it difficult for him to see him properly.

"It's unsettling." he admitted. Just how was he supposed to just switch his mind off, give way to the darkness and allow his senses to become completely dulled. They were back in the midst of the apocalypse, it hardly seemed safe. The knowledge that anything could happen around him and he would be completely unaware of it, caused his chest muscles to tighten in concern.

"Just try and relax. You managed to get some sleep in Finland, can you remember what helped then?" Sam coaxed and Castiel found himself raising an eyebrow, unsure if Sam was genuinely asking him that or not. Something had helped him back there alright, but it wasn’t exactly in reach now.

"I believe that was different, my body was still weak. Now it's.. Restless." That part was true to. His skin almost itched, the muscles wanting to work, feeling like they had to be prepared to work. They seemed to be fighting against everything that was telling them to be still.

"Know that feeling." Sam sank down into the pillows more, turning so he was staring up at the ceiling this time. The room seemed to be casting shadows up there, a tree that must have been near their window, causing the outline of its branches to fill up the blank space. He closed his eyes, not wanting to focus on it for too long, the movement in the breeze almost made it seem like fingers and he didn’t exactly trust himself not to start seeing them as just that.

"You too are having difficulties?" Castiel asked and Sam nodded, though he was unsure if Castiel would be able to see the action from that angle.

"Yeah."

Castiel sat up fully, moving his legs off the cushions and swinging them onto the floor in one fluid movement. He joined his hands together, placing his elbows on his thighs and leant forward slightly.

"Are you worried about Lucifer." This time he did lower his voice, watching Sam carefully for a reaction, he frowned and squinted his eyes when it looked like Sam flinched, though in the light they were in, he could not work out his expression fully.

" A bit. I have this… feeling in my gut, that he left me alone the last few days because he’s got some sort of master plan. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being paranoid”

Castiel shook his head, shivering slightly.

"No, it would be something he would do. The distance may have thrown him, but it is unlikely it would have affected his ability to connect to you. The fact he hasn't is concerning."

"Great." Sam threw his arm over his face, covering his eyes. He almost felt connected to him in a way, as if there was a part of him constantly in the back of his mind. A presence, watching his every move, just waiting for the right moment to strike. He sighed, moving his arm so he could rub at his eyes and tossing his body over onto its side.

Castiel watched him in concern. He just wanted to touch him, to reassure him that no matter what he was there. Perhaps a part of him wanted the assurance that Sam was close by too.

Silence fell upon them and Sam turned again, this time onto his stomach, pulling the pillow under his chin.

Castiel pushed his blanket back and got to his feet, his mind made up in an instant.

"Move over.”  He said, taking a few steps towards him.

Sam twisted around, his features drawing into a look of confusion. He blinked, trying to will the room to light up enough so he could see Castiel properly. He had no such luck, but he did as he requested all the same.

Castiel wasted no time in climbing in next to him, laying down almost immediately, as Sam turned so they were face to face.

Castiel smiled, reaching out to brush Sam’s hair out of the way.

"Much better." He said and Sam was unsure if he was referring to his hair, or how they now lay.

Sam returned the smile within seconds all the same and they just lay quietly for a moment, before a brief snore from the other bed filled the room.

"Dean will have a fit if he see’s us like this." Sam said with a laugh, shaking his head as he imagined his brother’s face if he was to wake up at that very second.

Castiel’s expression was blank for a moment, before he carefully sat back up and looked around. Sam frowned, his eyebrows drawing together and as Castiel went to stand up, he shot his hand out to try and stop him.

_He hadn’t meant for him to leave._

He was too late, and watched in confusion as the angel wandered over to where he left half of his clothes. The hunter could just about make out the sight of him pulling his tie out of the pile and his frown deepened.  Castiel turned around slowly, smiling to himself as he took a few steps over to Dean’s bed and then hung the tie over one of the lights by his head.

"Cas?" Sam asked carefully his eyes not once leaving him.

"He can no longer complain…. he now has forewarning to us sleeping together." He replied as he made his way back around to Sam and snuggled back down into the bed.

For the first time that night, Sam was relieved for the lack of light and Cas’ inability to see the colours his cheeks quickly turned.

"Urrr th-that tends to have a slightly different meaning." He tried to explain, cringing as he closed his eyes. He was never leaving his brother to explain anything to the angel again.

Castiel shrugged.

"I am aware of that."

Sam re opened his eyes, shooting the angel a surprised look.

_He what?_

"You are?" He asked dubiously.

Castiel nodded, settling an arm over Sam’s stomach.

"Yes.”

Sam tried to keep his voice calm as he continued.“And it doesn’t bother you that Dean will draw the… other conclusion?”

“Why would it?”

“Well what if the other angels hear it?”

Castiel pushed himself up, so he was almost hovering over Sam, his weight being supported by the arm around Sam’s midsection, his hand now pressing down on his chest. Sam tried not to gulp, butterflies fluttering through his stomach over the close proximity.

“You are worried rumors of fornication will damage my reputation?” He asked with the most serious of expressions. Sam nodded and as he did, Castiel’s let out a small chuckle, ducking his head inwards slightly. Oh he did amuse him. “Sam...I defied heaven to follow the path set by the ancestors of Cain and Abel - Rumours of a sexual variety wouldn't even register in comparison.” He wasn’t sure why his own breathing patterns changed as he stared down at the hunter, but found himself drawing a steadying breath all the same, unable to look away. There was something different about this angle and if the pulsing underneath his palm was anything to go by, Sam certainly thought so too.

Sam just stared up at him wordlessly, his mouth open just a fraction.

Castiel smiled in amusement as something caught his attention, and Sam's brow creased.

“What?” Castiel smiled more so Sam reached up and gently shoved his shoulder. “What?”

The angel shifted his weight onto the arm resting on the bed and reached up with his other arm towards Sam’s hairline. He brushed his fingers through it, never once breaking eye contact with him, then he pulled his hand away and held it out flat for Sam to inspect.

On his finger was a tiny piece of plasterboard.

“I think I may have cracked some of the ceiling in that laundry room.” He closed his fingers around the offending object and squeezed, effectively turning it to dust.

Sam bushed the bits that fell in his direction away, his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress a laugh.

“They are going to think one hell of a fight went down in there.”

Castiel nodded.“With giant axes.”

This time Sam laughed out loud, nodding his head. “Yes.”

They fell silent again, just looking at each other, then Cas lay his head back down on the bed, his face only inches away from Sam’s.

“Do you mind me being here, I can go back to the couch?” he asked suddenly, he wanted to be sure he wasn’t making Sam want to run away again.

Sam immediately shuffled back onto his side, extending an arm out to wrap around him in return. “Don’t you dare.”

Castiel smiled and closed his eyes in contentment. It was the last time he opened them for hours.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want Dean to be a part of this story, but im scred about making him into that 'shipper' role. I hope thats not happening but if it is please let me know!! Hope you enjoy the chapter :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For safety reasons if you have an aversion to the idea of Bobby's toenails, hate cliches or are under 16... don't read the second half of this chapter :')
> 
> Have i got anyone wondering how on earth those things are related yet? LOL
> 
> On another note, It's over 6,500 words. I apologize

Walking from the bathroom back into the bedroom, Sam reached for his duffle bag and swung it on to the bed. A pair of jeans hung loosely around his waist and small droplets of water rolled down his bare back.

From his position on the couch, Castiel watched him completely transfixed, his eyes trailing down after the escaping moisture. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling all too dry and tried desperately to remember how he was supposed to breathe.

Sam seemed to have the remarkable ability to make him forget the simplest of things.

A tshirt dropped to the floor and Sam bent down to retrieve it, his muscles flexing. Castiel swallowed hard, frowning as his thighs found themselves clenching together. He could hear his heart beat quickening and attempted to take a meditated breath.

_What was happening to him?_

Sam stood back up, bringing the material to his nose to inhale it.  He pulled a face when the scent hit him and quickly discarded it to the floor.

He was sure it hadn’t been that long since his last laundry day.

Castiel expected him to reach for another, so was surprised when the hunter simply closed his eyes and started rolling his neck. After a few turns, his hand moved its way up to rest on his shoulder and he pressed into the muscles there with a pained expression on his face.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed in concern, his previous predicament quickly forgotten. He got to his feet the second he heard a hiss leave his friend’s mouth.

“Are you in pain Sam?” He asked carefully, taking a few steps forward. He’d seen the hunter take a couple of  nasty knocks during the hunt, so he supposed he should have considered the possibility sooner. Dean certainly wouldn’t have handed him pills before if there wasn’t a problem.

He cursed at himself for his lack of insight.

He still had so much to learn about being human.

Sam  jumped, his head twisting around awkwardly to the living area. His hand, almost on instinct reaching for where they had placed the nearest gun. He relaxed once he caught sight of Castiel and dropped his hand slowly to his side, abandoning his pillow search.

“I thought you’d decided to go with Dean?” He deflected quickly, his eyes glancing around for his t shirt. He felt somewhat uncomfortable standing there without one now. He had thought he was alone.

Castiel shook his head.

“He did not wish for his … style to be cramped.” He replied, chewing over the words carefully. While he was unsure what it was Dean meant by that, he was almost certain Sam would be able to decipher it. They understood each other’s sayings better than he ever could.

“Won’t expect him back tonight then.” Sam said with a roll of his eyes, shaking his head slightly. You could always rely on his brother to go in search of his next conquest at the most inappropriate of times. They had only just finished building a pyre to burn (long) dead bodies, he didn’t know how he had the energy for it.

Castiel squinted, his head tilting to the side slightly; _where else was Dean going to sleep?_   Sam however ignored the silent question, choosing to reach back for his holdall and search through it instead.

“You never answered my question.” The angel eventually spoke, realizing if Sam was unphased by Dean’s whereabouts, then he should be too. Sam was the last person who would sit idly by if his brother was in trouble. “Are you okay?”

Sam nodded with a brief ( and rather fake in the angel’s opinion), smile.“ Yeah, just a little stiff.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows but Sam ignored him further, pulling out articles of clothing, one after the other.

There had to be something he could wear somewhere?

Why did he suddenly only own socks?

Castiel frowned.

“Can I be of any assistance to you?” He asked, walking forwards until he was stood right beside him. There was something wrong. He could tell that much, Sam only avoided looking at him when he was struggling with something. And while he was sure a part of him really did want to find what ever was in that bag, he had an inkling it was just being used as a distraction.

He moved his hand forward slightly, then drew it back again, unsure if now was the time to offer reassurances or not. Was he meant to wait until the problem was obvious? Or until Sam took comfort in finding what he wanted? He sighed, glancing down at Sam’s back. From this distance he could see various shades of bruising appearing underneath the hunter’s skin. A few more hours and the purple would really start to shine through.

He grimaced in sympathy. That was just what he  needed, as if he hadn’t been through enough already.

Sam pulled his hand out of the bag for the last time and let out a ragged breath. He held the clean t-shirt between his fingers and hurriedly put it on as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Once he was satisfied the rolls were out of it he tilted himself forward slightly. He placed his forehead into the palms of his hands and took a deep breathe.

“I dunno, can you get everyone away from me?” He tried to joke, but a strained noise left his throat, showing the angel it was anything but.

Castiel briefly closed his eyes, he’d been afraid of this.

“Lucifer was never going to take people helping you well Sam, but you mustn’t blame yourself for that.”

He’d had his suspicions from the moment they encountered the first of the living dead; there was only one creature powerful enough to bring them back without their decaying bodies. Those suspicions were only confirmed the moment they all turned on Bobby. He had hoped to keep the truth to himself, but Bobby had soon taken that decision out of his hands. He could see it in Sam’s eyes before the man had even finished speaking. The blame he shouldered. The hatred he felt for himself for putting his loved ones in the position they were.

He could still see that same look reflected in his eyes now and he only wished he knew how to make it disappear.

“How can I not? Death is threatening Bobby  because of me. The man had to kill his wife- again. ” Sam retorted through gritted teeth, though Cas’ expression remained unphased, he’d expected the anger. “Do you know what that must have done to him? ... Is this just going to be  how it is now? Lucifer  targeting everyone I care about?”

Castiel glanced to the bed then turned around so he could take a seat on the very corner. He reached up once he was settled, placing a hand to Sam’s shoulder.

“Probably, yes.”  He wished he had a different answer for him, but it was the devil they were talking about. Quite frankly he was surprised this hadn’t happened sooner. If Sam wasn’t going to say yes, he would find a way to make him. Mental torture, isolation, fear, there was so many different possibilities and he had had thousands of years to consider them all.

Really, it was lucky it was Sam who was bred for the devil, anyone else would have broken long ago.

“Great.” Sam replied, his shoulders tensing up and chin tucking in to his chest. He let out an exasperated noise and drew his left hand to the back of his neck again.

Castiel squeezed his shoulder, offering up a weak smile.

There was nothing he could say to make it better, to make it easier for him.

Lucifer was only going to get worse the more his current vessel deteriorated.

 He couldn’t change that.

Nothing could change that.

Sam’s hand traveled further down his neck, pressing into the muscle at the very back, much like it had done not so long ago. This time however Castiel felt the tremor that went along with it.

“Does that alleviate the pain?” He asked, motioning to what Sam was doing. As far as he could tell, it just caused Sam more discomfort, but there must have been a deeper reason for it. He didn’t think he’d quite reached the point yet where he he was purposely causing himself harm.

 

The hunter paused for a second before nodding.

 

“Yeah, it helps stop muscles spasming.”

 

He moved his hand further sideways, more into his shoulder and shifted uncomfortably as he pressed into the muscles that lay there. They really had taken a beating of late, he could feel the knots under his fingertips. He just had to try and get the angle right to work them out. Lucifer may have been out of his control, but at least this wasn’t.

 

Castiel nodded, watching him carefully, taking note of the motions and how much pressure he applied. When he was sure he got it, he squeezed Sam’s shoulder again, then moved his own hand so it was it was covering the hunter’s.

 

“Let me do that.” He said softly, taking hold of his fingers and gently pulling them away.

 

“Oh no, it’s fine Cas.” Sam replied, drawing his hand down to his side. Sure he wasn’t having much success with it but he could live with it, the pain would ease anyway when the painkillers started to kick in.

 

The angel however was having none of it.

 

“You can't reach down your back, I can.” He pointed out and moved his hand down to the base of Sam’s spine, as if to prove it. He may not have been able to help Sam with the devil, but he could at least do this for him.

 

He tried to ignore how his heart sped up at the contact.

 

Sam shivered under the touch and looked at him oddly for a moment, his eyes guarded. As much as he appreciated the gesture, he wasn’t sure he could accept it.

 

Aside from everything else, he would have to take his top of again and be sat on a bed, alone with his crush, essentially having a massage - It hardly seemed the wisest of ideas.

 

“Dont worry about it.” He shrugged his shoulder, and turned away, causing Castiel’s hand to drop down onto the bed. The whole town was suffering the loss of their dead loved ones all over again because of his choices, having a bit of a stiff back was nothing in comparison.  “Other people have it worse.”

 

The angel watched him curiously for a moment, a deep frown on his face as  his eyes scanned over every inch of Sam’s features. He couldn’t work out why he was refusing help? Why the position of others would mean he couldn’t be soothed? It was not like he was responsible for what had happened. That was all down to Lucifer.

 

_Oh_

 

He sat up straighter.

 

_Of course._

 

“Lucifer’s actions are not your fault.” Cas said with a stern voice, his hand reaching over to touch Sam’s forearm instead. “He put them through this, not you.”

 

Sam folded his arms across himself, a dark look appearing on his face. “I let him out. What’s happened since is on me.”

 

Castiel drew in a breathe, his shoulders squaring up and he pulled his hand away from Sam. He looked uncertainly at him for a moment, and for the briefest of seconds his eyes became haunted, before his expression became devoid of all emotion.

 

Sam’s forehead wrinkled up and he eyed him with confusion. He couldn’t have forgotten that already surely? Did losing his grace give him a temporary dose of selective amnesia or something? That was the only plausible explanation he could think of to explain his reaction.

 

Castiel turned his head away, looking up at the ceiling and staring at the spot above him. He looked like he was struggling with something, the new knowledge maybe? His decision to be so close to someone who had let all hell break loose on earth? Literally.

 

Sam frowned. There was nothing he could do to defend himself. His actions weren’t something he could ever just explain away. He wanted to say something, anything, but found himself unable to form words, just waiting for the angel to come back to him.

 

To come to a decision.

 

In almost slow motion Castiel blinked and moved his eyes back to Sam’s.

 

“And I let you out.” He said carefully.

 

Sam’s head jolted back.

 

He hadn’t expected that.

 

“What?” He replied, his hand positioning itself on the sheets behind him. He used it as a form of support as he turned his body around to face the angel properly, a leg coming up onto the bed. Castiel did not fail to notice this also drew him further back, widening the gap between them.

 

He nodded slowly, looking down in remorse. “The angels wanted the apocalypse Sam, it was I who was ordered to free you.”

 

Sam sucked in a breathe, his eyes moving in several different directions. He didn’t know how to take that.

 

_It had been Cas?_

“You?”

 

_It had been Cas all along?_

_Cas had let him out???_

 

“Yes.” Castiel confirmed, placing his hands into his lap. His gut twisted as he watched Sam’s reaction, waiting for the moment where he would get to his feet and leave. He had never planned on telling him. A secret taken to his grave in order to protect his relationship with both Winchesters. But some things were more important. Sam deserved to know the truth, to have that peace of mind. Even if he lost him because of it.

 

His chest felt heavy at just the thought and he pulled an arm over his stomach uneasily.The sides of his mouth started to water and the muscles in his abdomen tightened considerably. He supposed this was what real worry felt like.

 

And it was nauseating.

 

Sam’s eyes cast themselves downwards and he lowered his head so Castiel was unable to see them, his hair casting a shadow over his face.

 

_All this time and it was him?_

_How was he supposed to take that?_

 

“Why are you telling me this now?” he asked, his voice hesitant. He bit at the top of his lip, refusing to look back up. He had always wondered who had opened that door. Who had let him out of the nightmare and straight on to the path to finding more blood. He thought of everyone, considered everyone, but never once confronted them. It mattered little to him at the time, all he wanted was freedom. An out, a chance to kill Lilith. No matter how suspicious he found it.

 

Since that day, he had wondered if it was a test, set by Dean or Bobby, to see if he really would take off. Or if it was Ruby, hell bent on breaking that final seal. A demon on her side? Micheal? One of his hench men? The possibilities were endless.

 

There hadn’t been a day where he didn’t spare at least one thought to it.

 

And yes, he had considered Castiel too, it was no secret he didn’t particularly like him then.

 

He had also wondered if things would have been different if he never got out? If he had detoxed and taken the time to think things through more clearly? Or would he still be down there now, desperate, clawing at the walls, wanting nothing more than to get his hands around Liliths neck and throttle the life out of her.

 

He shuddered and Castiel watched him intently.

 

“Because all of this, is not down to you. You did not know what events would unfold. We never told you. I however knew and I still opened that door. The blame for Lucifer is on me.”

 

Much to his surprise, Sam shook his head.

 

“No it’s not. It makes no difference, I chose to trust a demon. I made a series of really crappy choices. If you hadn’t have done it, someone else would have.” He was certain of that.

 

Castiel frowned, slightly taken aback. He had expected the admission to make things easier for him, that the knowledge would help lessen the burden. Even if it meant he was to face Sam’s anger for it. To have the whole issue simply brushed off, didn’t seem right.

 

Why was he always so determined to take the fall for everything?

 

It was infuriating.

 

“Sam…” The hunter looked back up and shrugged.

 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, drawing his other leg up on to the bed and folding it over his left. He wasn’t angry, at least he didn’t think he was. Disappointed? Sure, but more so because it took him so long for him to tell him, rather than it stemming from his actions.

 

It wasn’t like the angel had made his side clear back then and it some massive betrayal. They barely knew each other. He was Dean’s angel, the one sent to protect him, not to help Sam. He was the good little soldier who did what he was told. Even if he was an ass to boot.

 

He understood why he did what he did.

 

And really it made no difference, he was so stubborn, so focused on revenge that he probably would have faked his way out if need be. Pretended that he was clean, that he understood, that he was on their side, until he could slip his way back to Ruby.

 

Not the prettiest of thoughts, but no less true. In fact, he’d considered that plan only minutes before the door had opened.

 

“I… don’t know. That you forgive yourself at least?” Sam shook his head. He still set Lucifer free, he started the apocalypse. It was his hands that bore Liliths blood. No matter who had had helped him get there.

 

“I can’t… it's not that simple." Castiel frowned but before he could say anything in response, Sam continued. “Do you? Forgive yourself?” He looked up at the angel. It wasn’t a loaded question, he just really wanted to know.

 

Castiel eyes squinted slightly as he considered it. His actions never really made him feel bad before his fall. Guilt was as much of a new emotion as the rest. He thought back to that day, the slight hesitation he had experienced as he unlocked the door. The doubt that plagued his mind. Unfortunately there was never enough of it to cause him to do anything more than pause.

 

At least not until the very end.

 

He did not feel angry at himself though; he made a decision, a bad one as it turned out, but one he had to live with all the same. He supposed he felt… remorse... and shame for not acting sooner, for not realizing what he was doing was wrong.

 

Even so, he was at peace with what his actions had caused. It was the effect they then had on Sam which really troubled him. That he could never just let go of. The hunter held his accountability highly and he had unknowingly contributed to the weight he forced himself to carry.

 

That was the part which was unforgivable.

 

That he could never just accept.

 

Slowly, he shook his head.

 

Sam’s lips twitched upwards, but it was far from a happy smile.

 

“Well then.” He said, because that covered it all really. If an angel couldn’t forgive a small part he had played, then how was he ever meant to forgive himself for opening the whole damn lock?

 

Castiel deflated, almost as if he could still read his mind.

 

“I am sorry Sam.” And he was, more than anything he was.

 

“It’s…” He was about to say okay, but trailed off and shook his head. It wasn’t okay, far from it and there was no point lying about it either . “...Done, there’s no changing the past. We’ve just got to learn from it.”

 

Castiel nodded and he eyed Sam warily for a moment, before shifting forwards so they were closer together and reaching out to take both of his hands into his.

 

“We will stop him.” He wasn’t entirely convinced he believed his own statement, but one look at Sam, made him 100 percent sure he would never voice anything to the contrary.

 

“You think we can?” Sam asked, his eyes falling down to their entwined hands as he spoke.

 

Castiel let go of one of them and moved his fingers up to lightly brush against Sam’s chin, encouraging his head upwards so he would look at him.

 

“Yes. ” He said simply, determinedly. He smiled as Sam nodded and gave his hand a squeeze.

 

There was no choice in the matter,

 

He would fight to the end.

 

Even if it cost him his life.

 

\---------

 

“What about the church in South Carolina?” Castiel asked, shifting through one of the pages he held in his hands. They had stayed sat on the bed, Sam with the laptop, Castiel going through all of the leads the hunter had gathered over the past few months.

 

There had to be something, somewhere, something they had missed.

 

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to recall what one the angel was talking about.

 

“Beaufort?” He asked and when he was greeted with a nod, he sat up more and reached across to where he was sure he had seen some information on it. It was a very historical town if he remembered correctly, well maintained and scenic. He supposed it could be a good an option as any.

 

He saw the page he needed further towards the bottom of the bed and stretched for it more. However he quickly froze, his face screwing up.

 

Sitting in the same position for several hours and then stretching as much as he had was apparently not a good idea.

 

With a hiss, he slowly forced himself back into a sitting position, drawing his shoulders backwards and pulling the blades together.

 

Castiel frowned deeply, looking up from his work.

 

“Sam?”

 

“M’okay.” The hunter mumbled, breathing out in much of the same way as a woman in labor would.  

 

Castiel tilted his head, his eyebrows raising.“Your expression says otherwise.”

 

“Just need a minute.” He continued, moving his head backwards so he could look up at the ceiling and taking in a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the angel shaking his head.

 

“Why don’t you just allow me to help?” He asked. Sam moved his head to the right and tried to rest it against his shoulder, attempting to get the muscles there to work properly. He came to a halt much sooner than he would have liked.

 

In fact he was a good few centimeters off touching his shirt.

 

He glanced over to the angel unsurely. He knew it would help, at this point it was probably the only thing that could help but he just couldn't bring himself to say yes.

 

He licked his lips and shook his head.

 

“We’ve got to get this done.” he replied, pointing to the many notes that surrounded them. “We’re running out of time.”

 

Castiel looked down to what was in his hands, before discarding them on to the cabinet beside them and reaching over to retrieve Sam’s laptop.

 

“You are going to be no use to anyone at this rate.” He had been watching him carefully and the time between each of his neck rolls seemed to be getting shorter and shorter. He had chosen to keep quiet, figuring Sam would give in eventually, but this was getting ridiculous.

 

“They are just cramps. It’s no big deal.” Sam argued, trying to take back his laptop, Castiel however held it out, away from him, knowing full well Sam’s movements would not allow him to reach it. Sure enough, the hunter winced again, his muscles seizing.

 

Castiel smirked as Sam’s shoulders deflated and he lent back against the headrest.

 

“Turn around then.” He ordered, placing the computer on top of his papers. Sam’s refusal really was pointless. He had once stood watching an entire millennia, the ice age come about and earth repopulating itself when the dinosaurs were wiped out. If Sam thought he would out stubborn him, he had another thing coming.

 

“No.” The hunter replied, picking up a notebook and scanning through it. It was out of his hands before he could even read a word of it.

 

“Sam you are acting like a child. Just let me help you.” Castiel continued, this time simply throwing the material over his shoulder so it hit the floor. Sam’s only response was to glare. “Are you afraid I will make it worse?”

 

“Of course not.” Sam replied, his eyes falling to the sheets. He was half tempted to reach out for another document but the look on Castiel’s face prevented him from doing so.

 

“Then what is the problem?”

 

Sam shrugged. How was he supposed to say that the thought of Cas running his hands along his back turned him on? Especially to an angel who probably didn’t have a clue what that meant. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one to explain it either. “There isin’t one.”

Castiel smiled rather smugly, signalling for Sam to turn around. The hunter didn’t however, simply choosing to lick his lips hesitantly instead. Cas had touched him before, but this would be so much different.

 

He sighed when he was greeted with an raise of an eyebrow. He knew if he really carried on protesting it, Castiel wouldn’t actually do anything, but then he would have to explain why. Why it was a problem, why he didn't want it to happen and that would be a thousand times more awkward.

 

He took in a deep breath, bracing himself and sat up slightly.

 

He tried to ignore the way Cas grinned in response. That look on him certainly wasn’t helping matters.

 

He grabbed at the back of his t-shirt and pulled it back over his head. He tossed it to the floor and glanced back at the angel who was shifting onto his knees. His attention then diverted to the rest of the bed, wondering how was best to do this.

 

What would be the least likely to end awkwardly?

 

He could stay sitting, that would be the obvious choice, but perhaps not the most comfortable. It probably wouldn’t make things easy for Cas either if he was to do his lower back.

 

“Sam?” Cas prompted, trying to get his attention with a flicker of his hand.

 

Sam looked at him uneasily.

 

“Is it okay if I lie down?”

 

Castiel nodded, not understanding why it wouldn’t be.  As Sam made a move to turn onto his side, the angel reached for the last of the papers and moved them to the bottom of the bed. Not quite out of the way, but at least they weren’t going to get crushed.

 

The  hunter stiffly turned so he was lying on his front and pulled a pillow under his chest to support himself more. Castiel watched in fascination as he maneuvered his arms so they were folded above his head, his forehead coming to rest on top of them.

 

He didn’t think he would ever tire of looking at him.

 

Once he was settled, Castiel shifted beside him and placed his hands on Sam’s back. Sam flinched slightly, not expecting the coldness which lingered on them.

 

“So I just do what you were doing? “ He asked, already moving so his hands were running up to Sam’s shoulder blades.

 

“Yeah, just muscle only, avoid the bones… and bruises.  If you feel anything round and solid in a muscle, its a knot that needs to be worked out, usually just by kneading it.” He explained and Castiel nodded, it seemed a simple enough process. Though that did not explain the reason for his sudden nerves.

 

“Okay.” He felt Sam’s muscles tense under his touch and frowned more. “Sam relax I wont hurt you.”

 

“I know.” Sam breathed out shakily, trying to calm himself. Dean waking up to find them a tangle of limbs had been bad enough, if he came back from the bar to see him like this, he would never live it down.

 

He just had to keep reminding himself that it was a perfectly innocent gesture and everything would be fine.

 

It was totally normal.

 

Just one friend, helping another out.

 

Nothing weird about it at all.

 

So long as he kept thinking of Bobby’s overgrown toe nails and nothing else.

 

Castiel took that as his cue and started pressing his thumbs into the spongy bits on the back of Sam’s neck, rubbing them in the circles he was used to. He was somewhat grateful he was no longer full of grace, at least he could not cause any accidental damage in his human state. He was unsure of the amount of pressure  he needed to use and the last thing he wanted to do was to cause Sam any more pain.

 

He used his other fingers to, pressing and kneading at  the skin, running his hands up and down Sam’s back. He paused when he felt what Sam described and pressed into it more, rubbing around the edges to try and loosen it. It was at the edge of a bruise too so he tried his hardest to keep his fingers very controlled.

 

Even so, Sam shifted under his touch. It was obviously quite sore but he didnt complain or tell him to stop so Castiel carried on, figuring he was doing the right thing.

 

He ran his hands down to the base of Sam’s back and back up again, trying to keep his movements even as to avoid his spine.

 

He ran his fingers to his shoulders and pressed in, circling them there, Sam breathed out raggedly.

 

“That feels nice.” He said heavily and Cas smiled, deciding to keep his hands in that position for a moment and continue the movements over and over.

 

If Sam liked it, he would carry on doing it for as long as he wanted.

 

He was surprised when  he could feel the muscles loosening under his touch- he never expected to be able to heal someone again. Knowing that something so simple, could have such a positive effect, made his insides sing.

 

Perhaps he still did have his uses afterall.

 

His feet tingled under his weight and he sat up off of them, pressing his weight more into his hands as he drew his fingers together and ran them up and down over the area underneath Sam’s shoulder blades.

 

“This okay?” He asked and Sam could only nod, his eyes falling closed.

 

_Toenails, toenails, toenails._

 

Castiel smiled, rather liking the feel of running his hands all over Sam’s skin. It was soft, yet you could feel the strength each muscle held. They were toned and firm and he just wanted to carry on touching them.

 

A part of him felt kind of special, being the one Sam allowed to do this to him.

 

Even if it was sort of out of pestering.

 

 He moved his hands further down and continued his actions there.

 

It felt intimate, he realised,  in the same way as sleeping so close to him the previous night did. It was like the world outside that room had stopped existing.

 

It was just him and Sam.

 

Not even Lucifer could bother them.

 

“Have you ever done this before?” Sam asked, his voice soft as he bit at his lips and drew in a relaxed breathe. He didn’t know why he had been so worried. It felt nice and  not awkward in the slightest.

 

In fact, it felt so good, it was like he was floating on a cloud.

 

“No, am I doing it right?”

 

“Yes.You should charge people for this.”

 

Cas smiled, more so in amusement than agreement.  While he appreciated the idea, he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to do this to anyone but Sam. It would feel wrong somehow.

 

His mind was already making it ‘there thing’.

 

He moved down further again, his hands sliding slightly around Sam’s middle as he pressed his thumbs into his back. His fingers gently caressed just above his hips and Sam practically hummed in response.

 

“Then again, maybe I want to keep you to myself.” He muttered under his breathe.

 

Cas was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that but his face broke into smile all the same. He certainly didn’t have a problem with it.

 

He tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as he shifted further up the bed and sat back down on his heels again.

 

He wanted to be closer to Sam.

 

He ran his hands across the base of his back, his fingers almost tracing the line of Sam’s jeans.

 

Sam let out a small groan as he worked that particular area and his smile widened in response, despite the colour that quickly rose up Sam’s cheeks.

 

He wasn’t sure what it was about the noise, but he knew he wanted to hear it again and again.

 

He drew his nails slightly across his skin before switching back to the pads of his fingers and drawing them in reverse over where he’d just been.

 

Sam buried his head into the bed, letting out one very long breathe.

 

_Toenails, very long curly toenails._

 

He closed his eyes, trying to shake of the embarrassment of the noise he made, biting his tongue to prevent himself from doing it again. He wasn’t sure he could believe Cas had never done something like this before, he had to be pulling the knowledge from somewhere to be able to make him feel like this.

 

His insides hummed, his muscles begging for Cas to never stop touching them. His stomach tightened as Cas’ fingers found their way to his sides again.

 

He only just prevented a sound escaping his lips.

 

God, he had to know what he was doing.

 

All too soon his fingers were gone from there, making their way back up to his neck again. He rubbed at the edges, causing Sam to tilt his head forward slightly to give him more access.

 

“Better?” Cas asked but did not cease his movements. Sam breathed out slowly again and just amount managed to nod.

 

“Hmmmm.” Was the only coherent noise he could form. He hadn’t felt so at peace in such a long time.

 

“What do you want me to do?”

 

 _‘Me’_ Sam’s mind screamed, but he tried his best to force it to shut up and not ruin the moment. He was too relaxed, enjoying the touch far too much to have to bring it to an end.

 

He didnt want to think, he just wanted to concentrate on Cas’ hands and what they were doing.

 

Nothing else.

 

Never anything else.

 

“M-my lower back ‘gain.” He eventually managed to mumble, sinking as far into the mattress as it would allow.

 

Cas’ moved his hands there slowly, savoring the feel. If he knew touch would make him feel like this, he would have suggested it a long time ago.

 

Hugging Sam was nice, holding him was amazing, but none of it made his fingers tingle as much as this did, made his insides come alive at the pleasure he was bringing to him.

 

He just wanted to bring him more and more.

 

Sam made another noise at the back of his throat which caused Castiel to smirk, oh he definitely liked this.

 

He moved his thumbs across Sam’s waist line, not pressing nearly as hard, he knew there was bone there, but Sam seemed to make the most noise while he was there so how could he resist?

 

“Fuck...Cas…”

 

Castiel shifted not understanding why there was suddenly this pressure, one that was causing his own breathing patterns to change. He felt, uncomfortable? Like he had in the car, only this time he didn’t want the feeling to vanish.

 

In fact he wanted more of it.

 

He ran his hands further along Sam’s back, so they ran across his hips, his fingers running around so they were pressed into the edges of his front.

 

Sam almost gasped, his breathing coming out ragged, everything tightening, reacting to Castiel.

 

Cas released the pressure and slid his hands up his sides and back onto his back, kneading the skin there instead. He clenched his own jaw, trying to work out why doing this to Sam was affecting him so much.

 

He could almost hear his own heartbeat it was thumping that loud.

 

He slid his hands up further, sliding them around Sam’s collar bone this time, then up his neck, he could feel Sam swallowing hard, and ran his fingers across his jaw line and behind his ears. He left them there a moment, then ran them through his hair and back down his neck.

 

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to form words if he tried.

 

He closed his eyes, shifting his body weight again.

 

Everything felt tighter, and it was making him want Sam even closer.

 

He leant down slightly, having this most uncontrollable urge to taste his skin.

 

He stopped with a jolt.

 

_What was he doing???_

 

Carefully he forced his hands to travel back to Sam’s shoulders, trying to ignore the slight tremor in them.

 

At this point, Sam could barely think straight and he shivered slightly, but that was enough movement for his lower body to move and he was suddenly very very aware of a certain situation going on.

 

He cursed, having long ago forgotten to think about the toenails.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain control of everything going on inside of him.

 

Castiel seemed to notice the change and stopped.

“Sam?”

 

Sam cursed, great.

 

He swallowed forcefully, trying his hardest not to let his voice shake.

 

“I urr, woah.” He all but whispered, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he turned his head to look at the angel.

 

_Coherent speech, Coherent speech, Coherent speech,_

 

“I… that was… that helped… a- a lot.” He said breathlessly, trying to steady his pulse as he attempted to flash him a reassuring smile. “Thanks.”

 

“Anytime.” Castiel replied, sitting back on his heels in bewilderment. That was apparently the wrong thing to do however as it displaced the material he was wearing and caused the most unexplainable desire to sift through him.

 

A breathe seemed to catch in his throat and his eyes widened, his body freezing.

 

Sam didn’t seem to notice as he twisted around, trying to keep his back to the angel as he sat up.

 

“I … I really need to pee.” he mumbled out as he bent down and reached for his abandoned t shirt, holding it in front of him as he awkwardly headed to the bathroom.

 

For the longest of moments, Castiel sat stock still, his eyes glued to Sam as that feeling begged at him to say something, to get get him back to-

 

The phone rang at the other side of the room and Castiel glared at it, as if it was the cause of everything wrong in the world.

 

He didn’t bother to get up to check who it was. Instead, he folded his arms across himself and took a staggering breathe.

 

_What was happening to him?_

 

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get control over his body.

 

He was suddenly far too hot.

 

He shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie some more, in the hope it would help.

 

When it didn’t he grabbed hold of his shirt, and moved his hand backwards and forwards, creating some sort of fan like effect.

 

While it did nothing to ease the physiological responses it did help to distract him somewhat.

 

If only for a second.

 

He heard the shower turn on and had to force his attention away from the bathroom door. His mind was full of images of Sam, and what he could be doing in there. His gut was tightening, craving something else.

 

He wanted to go in there, he wanted to carry on what they were doing, he wanted-

 

He stood up abruptly. His lips pressing together. In one swift movement he grabbed for  his jacket, turned on his heels and headed for the exit.

 

He had to get out of there.

 

He needed air.

 

Lots and lots of air.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massages are probably done to death but i think it worked?
> 
> I was wondering if it came to soon. But then i was like, actually this is chapter 20 i should probably step this up a gear :')
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	21. Chapter 21

Castiel walked and walked and walked, until his feet begged him to stop. Even then he did so with great reluctance. He took a deep breath and looked up at the darkening sky. He had never felt such a build up of frustration before and it was only now starting to die down. He ran his fingers through his hair and kicked at the nearest rock, sending it hurtling into the road.

 

Pain shot through his toes and a loud curse left his lips as he was forced to shift his weight off of them.

 

It did nothing to improve his ever deteriorating mood.

 

He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. It was confusing and aggravating and his insides twitched as if they needed him to do something, though he could only dream of knowing what.

 

He was a soldier, a lethal weapon, an angel who had seen more horrors than the entire human population combined, so to say he felt fear over this was not quite right. Yet he could not think of another word to describe the ever growing tightness in his gut.

 

Knowledge was everything and he was bestowed with it all. There was not a single event he did not remember since creation itself began. Even in the hardest of struggles, no actions took him by surprise. To be greeted with all of this uncertainty now, was as daunting as a newborn kitten finding itself alone in the world for the very first time.

 

He rested his weight onto a stone wall, blowing out a puff of air into the chilly night. He watched in mild fascination as it fluttered away like smoke. Just a week ago, he would have been able to see it without the assistance from the cold. It was the little things like that which hit him the hardest, which made him realise truly how far he had fallen.

 

How much things had changed.

 

He looked around, up and down the street, trying to get an idea of just where he was. He didn’t recognise anything, he wasn’t sure they had even gone to this part of town before. It was all just grey and dull, with far to many man made objects in sight. He pulled a face of unamusement and reached into his pocket. He still had the phone the Winchester’s had once given him, it would be so easy to call one of them and ask for directions. The problem was Sam, with his exceptionally large heart, would probably offer to pick him up and the angel was not quite ready to see him just yet.

 

At least not until he figured things out.

 

And he desperately needed to figure things out.

 

Like, why he couldn’t stop staring at Sam, why his body longed to have him closer, why the man stirred nerves inside of him when there was no need to ever fear him. Nothing made sense. Nothing ever seemed like it was going to make sense again.

 

He felt completely out of control, yet contented at the same time. Safe, yet on edge. Hungry, but not for nutrients human’s survived on.

 

It all confused the absolute life out of him.

 

And the fact was, he needed answers. He needed to understand.

 

Drawing his hands across his midsection, he tried to conserve some sort of heat as he looked around the street again. Why was it all these roads just ended up looking the same?

 

It was different when he had grace, he could sense exactly where he was on the planet. He could see into the centre of the earth if he so chose.

 

These human eyes, were nothing in comparison.

 

He rubbed at them, trying to force them to re see what he could no longer. He growled in frustration when it only proceeded to make his vision worse, little black dots, dancing away.

 

He pushed himself of the wall and stormed off down the road, not bothering to check the direction he was heading in.

 

There was the sound of rowdy people coming from somewhere.

 

Perhaps they could direct him to Dean.

 

\------------------

 

The shower came to a stop, the last of the droplets of water leaving the nozzle and Sam did nothing but watch them fall to the floor.

 

One arm pressed heavily against the tiled cubicle wall, the other remained on the dial as he desperately tried to get his breath back.

 

He could feel the sweat on his forehead, but did nothing to dislodge it as he tried to keep himself quiet. His jaw hurt from biting down so hard and his breathing only seemed to get louder the more he tried to force it to stay silent.

 

He glanced down at the basin he stood in, making sure he washed all the evidence away.

 

When he was certain, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the glass door.

 

His relief was slowly turning into unimaginable guilt.

 

He hadn’t planned another shower at all, but he just had to cool himself down. All he could picture was Cas’ hands, all he could feel was his touch, his smell so close to him; fingers trailing across his skin. His breathe for one fleeting moment on the back of his neck.

 

He breathed out heavily again, his legs giving way underneath him as he slid down to the ground.

 

He knew he should go back out there, he didn’t want Cas to think something was wrong again. He was probably confused enough over his sudden departure as it was.

 

The guilt however kept him firmly rooted to the spot.

 

It was so easy, so very easy to imagine, as his hand trailed down his stomach, that it was still Cas’. Still Cas’ gripping him, stroking him, making his body feel like it was on fire. Bringing him the kind of pleasure and satisfaction only the angel ever could.

 

He banged his head backwards softly, mumbling to himself.

 

He shouldn’t have done it.

 

Especially not with Cas just a few feet away.

 

What if he had heard?

 

How was he ever going to explain it?

 

He should have been stronger. Should have fought against himself harder. Pictured curling nails and Dean’s regurgitated pie after a night out drinking. Or of wrinkled feet, or clowns. Anything to just calm himself down. Distract his mind from what it was so heavily focused on.

 

He had done none of that however, instead he had imagined what it would be like to feel Cas’ lips on the base of his neck, nibbling at his collar bone, running his tongue across his chest; his fingers gripping his hips. His nails digging into his skin again, running along his waist band, tracing up his thighs, touching his -

 

He cut his own thoughts of with a curse, shaking his head.

 

He needed to stop this. There was no way of explaining why the shower needed to run a third time.

 

He tried to get up but his body refused to co-operate. It wasn’t ready. Not after that.

 

He all but forced his knees to his chest, resting his arms on top of them.

 

He needed to get dressed. He needed to get out there.

 

Hell, he needed some sort of vacuum to suck the thoughts out of his mind.

 

If Lucifer didn’t drive him to the asylum, all of this sure would.

 

He heard his phone beep from the other side of the door for the second time and groaned.

 

Today was not his day.

 

\------------------

 

It didn’t take the angel long to spot Dean when he entered the bar, though it did take him having to follow drunks around building to building until he got the right one. Who knew there was so many taverns in one town?

 

Resisting the urge to pull his tie of completely, Castiel shifted it down lower and headed towards the hunter.

 

If he was ever to understand any of this,  then he needed help and if he wasn’t prepared to ask Sam, well that only left one other person.

 

“I require your assistance.”

 

Dean glanced over his shoulder, frowning as he turned his attention away from the barmaid he was obviously flirting with. The angel was surprised to see he didn’t appear too intoxicated, though he was unsure if this was to his advantage or not.

 

Sober Dean never took to intimate conversations very well.

 

“Is Sam okay?” The hunter asked as soon as he approached, flashing the woman an apologetic smile. She winked as she turned around to go serve another customer and Dean couldn’t help but watch her leave.

 

“Yes, he is showering at the motel.” Cas replied, coming to a stop a few inches from him. The concern on Dean’s face instantly faded and he took a swig out of his bottle.

 

“ Still?” He asked as he put it back down, raising an eyebrow. Castiel gave him a confused look but he simply shook his head as he glanced down at his watch in wonder. He’d been gone hours, the boy would start resembling a shrimp if he didn’t turn the water off soon.

 

“He…” Castiel started but paused, his eyes narrowing. He had never known Sam to require more than one shower in such a short space of time before either. In fact had he not only just got out? What possible reason would there be for him to take a second? His skin certainly didn’t feel like there were any foreign substances lingering on it and he most definitely did not smell bad.

 

He tilted his head to the side; that was the main reasons for human’s requiring a wash covered, so what was he missing?

 

He frowned when he was unable to draw up any reasoning and shifted his weight from foot to foot. The ache was back and it was getting worse. Begrudgingly he pulled out the nearest stool and took a seat next to Dean. If his feet wanted a break, he supposed he had no choice but to give them one.

 

That was yet another thing that was bothering him tonight, how easy the human body became dissatisfied. His feet felt like they were bleeding and his throat was dry. Without really thinking, he reached out, grabbing Dean’s glass out of his hands. He ignored the shocked protest that came from the hunter as he raised it to his mouth and threw the liquid back.

 

Dean’s complaints soon faded out and instead he smirked at the expression which quickly found its way on to Castiel’s features. His cheeks bunched up and his tongue poked out of his mouth, shriveling away from the taste the alcohol left there.

 

“That is vile.” Castiel stated as he slammed the glass back down. “It tasted better as molecules.”

 

Dean’ almost couldn’t contain his laugh as he held his arm up to signal one of the bartenders over.

 

“You haven’t lived.” He mumbled, before reaching into his pocket and handing some cash over to the man who appeared in front of them. “Same again, and you better get us some good old H2O for Mr grumpy pants over here.”

 

Castiel frowned, knowing the hunter well enough by now to know when he was being insulted. Personally, he thought if anyone had the right to be a little ill- tempered, it was him. He’d like to see how Dean would fare if the situation was reversed.

 

He turned his nose up as a glass was put in front of him and glanced down at it suspiciously. If it tasted the same as the last thing he tried he really wasn’t interested.

 

Dean rolled his eyes as he brought his own bottle to his lips.

 

“Relax, it’s just water.”

 

He nodded, reaching out to sip at the liquid just to be sure, he wouldn’t put it past the man to trick him in some way as an act of continued revenge. As soon as it hit the back of his throat his eyes widened. Within seconds he was gulping it down, enjoying the refreshment it brought and the way his body screamed for more.

 

He would have to take note, he decided, would have to remember that he needed to drink now. Sam had failed to mention a time scale the last time he had a bottle of the stuff.

 

Dean watched him with a parted mouth, glancing around awkwardly to make sure no one was watching them.Water dribbled down the angel’s chin as he drank and Dean was already reaching into his pocket to send a text before it hit his t-shirt.

 

_‘Teach your angel how to fucking swallow.’_

 

“So what do you want.” He asked with a shake of his head, lowering his phone to the bar.

 

Castiel placed his glass down slowly and glanced his way.

 

“I need you to explain something to me.” He said, joining his hands together in his lap. His stomach tensed considerably as he thought over what had happened again and he had to resist the urge to punch it.

 

Why couldn’t it just stop? Or at the very least tell him why??

 

“Shoot.”

 

Dean took another sip of his drink, his eyes trailing around the room trying to find the barmaid he’d been chatting to. He hoped to God she hadn’t just witnessed the spectacle. The company a man kept said a lot about him and Castiel was hardly the advertisement he wanted to portray.

 

“Being human, is greatly confusing me. While I understand the mechanics behind physical stimulation, I am unsure why it reacts to other things.” He explained, frowning deeply.

 

Dean gave him a weird look, before the lady in question caught his attention and he winked in her direction. Opening his eyes that morning, to see a tie hanging in his face and the outline of two bodies in the next bed had been enough to scare him off that particular motel for life. Going back there now wasn’t an option and she was definitely a much better alternative than sleeping at Bobby’s.

 

“To why what reacts?” He asked as she gave him a flirty smile in return.

 

He took another sip of his drink, his own lips curling upwards as he raised his eyebrows at her twice. He was pretty damn sure he was in there. Her bashful smile after only confirmed it.

 

“The human penis.”

 

Beer spurted everywhere and Dean coughed desperately, his hand coming up to try and catch the escaping liquid as it poured out his nose. He  shot backwards, dragging the stool with him and knocking it loudly to the floor.

 

He coughed again, almost choking and he placed his glass on worktop to free his hand up. With great force he banged on his chest, trying to dislodge the liquid from his lungs.

 

Castiel watched him with a blank expression. It seemed a rather strange way to clear out the nasal cavity if you asked him. He’d never even heard a mention of it being done that way before. He’d have to remember to ask Sam if it was a preferable method when he got back. Dean’s reaction certainly didn’t make it seem that way.

 

“Excuse me?” Dean managed to spurt as he glanced back up at the angel, trying to blink the sting that had settled behind his eyes away.

 

He wiped the remains of the liquid from his face, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the people around them, specifically the barmaid who had paused in her movements.

 

“I was rubbing Sam’s -”

 

He almost fell to the floor.

 

“Woah, No,” He held his hand out, his expression turning to one of absolute disgust. “No! God No.” He reached for the remains of his drink, throwing it back in one go. “I don’t ever want to hear those words in relation to each other again. Jesus Cas. No.” He continued, shaking his head.

 

What the hell was the angel thinking?

 

There was too much information and then there was just… that.

 

He rested his hands on the bar. No amount of alcohol was ever going to be enough to block out the picture that was settling in his mind.

 

Castiel narrowed his eyes, getting of the stool and reaching down to pick the other one up. There seemed to be a lot of people staring, he presumed that was the reason why.

 

“-Back. I was rubbing Sam’s back.” He clarified, looking up at Dean with reservation. What did he think they were doing?

 

The hunter’s shoulders loosened, his hands coming to his face and he ran them up and down his cheeks. Okay so it wasn’t ideal, but it was a hell of alot better than the alternative.

 

“And?” He said harshly, not really wanting to know the answer. There was just some things you just didn’t discuss and what was done to your little brother was one of them.

 

“It reacted and I felt… things… and I'm not sure why.” Castiel replied uneasily, his confusion growing the more he thought about it. He was so conflicted, his fondness for Sam was indescribable, but fondness didn't cause the reaction in him today. It didn’t cause the burn in his gut or the struggle in his chest.

 

Dean’s eyes drifted upwards for a few seconds, to the point you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind, then they widened considerably and his eyes shot back to the angel, horrified all over again.  

 

“Oh hell no.” he called out, pulling a face. “ I am not giving you the sex talk.”

 

Castiel tilted his head, his brow creasing. He didn’t believe that was what he was asking? “Dean?”

 

Was it?

 

The man shook his head.

 

“No, I’m sorry but there are just some boundaries you do not cross with another dude.” He spared a glance to the barmaid who had vered off in another direction and cursed under his breathe.

 

So much for that one. Not that he could blame her. He would run a mile as well.

 

"Please." Cas hissed, his frustration levels building again. He couldn't go back to that hotel, couldn't face Sam and have all those feelings fly through the roof without a clue as to why they were there. Without knowing what they all meant. He just couldn't. Maybe it was because he was weak now, losing his grace dissolving the part of him that faced things. But it was too confusing.

 

He needed answers.

 

If not for his sake, then for Sam’s.

 

If one of his instincts became too powerful to ignore, he didn't want to risk hurting him again in some way. He had almost bitten him back there, that couldn’t be normal surely?

 

He refused to cause Sam anymore struggle through  his own carelessness and lack of basic understanding.

 

He had to eliminate that risk. Or he would have to distance himself from him, which would probably only end up hurting him too.

 

"Ask someone else."

 

He felt his temper boil over.

 

That wasn’t an option.

 

“Who?” He shouted as he threw his arms out to his side. “Who am I supposed to ask Dean?"

 

He didn’t know how many times he could go over this. He didn’t have anyone besides them. Why couldn’t they get that?

 

Dean raised an eyebrow as Castiel took a step back, locking his jaw.

 

“Try google.” He said, trying to suppress his amusement, he really was the picture of an overworked salesman who was about to hit the bottle hard. It was hysterical really.

 

Castiel’s eyes hardened.

 

“Is this is funny to you?”  He demanded as he clenched his fists. A simple question did not warrant getting laughed at. Dean quickly wiped the smile from his face and shook his head, his eyes finally taking in how much his friend seemed to be struggling.

 

“Of course not.” He tried to rectify but the damage had already been done.

 

“Yes it is, I’m just a joke to you now aren’t I?” Of course he was, he was a fallen angel. He had rebelled from heaven to try and stop something written by God himself and was now struggling with emotions. It was laughable. He was laughable.

 

Dean shook his head again, taking a step forward. “Cas..”

 

“No! I gave up everything for you, do you understand that? I don't have anyone else to ask and you're just laughing at me!” He turned around, storming towards the doors. He had to get out of there, he could feel it, just under the surface, bubbling away, trying its hardest to strike out. The same tangles of grace that destroyed the laundry room, fighting their way to be heard.

 

Dean closed his eyes, letting out a breathe, when he opened them again, he was suddenly very aware of every single eye on him. Disapproving and judging.

 

He shook his head.

 

Well that was him blacklisted for life.

 

Grabbing his phone from behind him, he pocketed it and walked quickly off after the angel.

 

He reached him outside within seconds, ignoring the whispers from people he passed.He reached out, grabbing hold of his upper arm.“Cas wait.”

 

“Let go.” Castiel snapped, pulling his arm free from his grasp. He turned around, causing Dean to practically bump into him as they came to a halt by the beer garden gates. The hunter stumbled back, but shook it off and looked down at him in concern.

 

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He asked.

 

Castiel’s expression tightened.

 

"Everything!" His voice almost croaked as he spoke, his eyes turning to slits. He had had enough of this, enough of all of it. Was it really so much to ask? Was it really so forbidden to be provided with answers? He was exasperated and Dean laughing at his lack of knowledge just made it all worse. “I’ve had things thrust upon me that I can’t even begin to comprehend. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

 

He tried to control his breathing, tried to settle the grace back down. He didn’t think there was enough of it left to succeed in its task, but he didn’t want to chance it either.

 

He didn’t want to hurt Dean and Sam would never forgive him if he did.

 

"I can hazard a guess." Dean replied, stepping to the side and turning so he was resting against the fence.

 

Castiel shook his head.

"No! You can't. You were born! You grew,  you were taught. A year ago I was a wave of celestial intent. Now I have hands and organs and emotions that are far too complex. This body, reacts and I don't know why because I have never experienced any of it before."

 

He couldn’t help the small amount of disappointment he felt when he realised he was right, That despite getting angrier, nothing was happening. He doubted anything ever would again.

 

His grace was almost completely burnt out.

 

"Look, everyone has a hard time adjusting to new things." The hunter replied but Castiel turned away, his body deflating as he looked up at the stars, to where he once belonged.

 

"Not like this!” He argued, trying to form the words to explain. His voice was lower now, the flare of anger giving way to something else. ”You can't even begin to imagine what it's like to be so far behind.” Because that’s what it felt like, it felt like he was behind, that he was missing a vital part of being human, something that someone of his age should have mastered already. He was no longer an angel, but he certainly wasn’t one of them either. “Too not know why you want to be closer to someone then you could possibly get. Or why you can't get enough air when they are around. It's infuriating and frustrating and no matter how much I try I can’t make sense of it.”

 

He stopped, his face full of distress as he bowed his head. Putting it all into words made everything feel so much worse. A pain shot through his forehead and he rubbed at it, trying to loosen his crease. He was tense, his heart beating wildly in his chest from the stress, to the point even he could tell he had to calm it back down.  
  
“Man you got it bad haven't you.” Dean said quietly, shaking his head slightly. He hadn’t realised. He had known Sam was a little love struck puppy, but never entertained the idea Cas could be too.

 

Castiel gritted his teeth. “Got what????”

  
Dean sighed, pushing himself up off the fence.

“Cas I can’t-”  
  
“DEAN.” The angel practically exploded, his hand moving to grip his hair at the back of his head.

He couldn’t take any more.  
  
“Calm down.” Dean held his hand out between them. “And listen.” He waited for the angel to nod, watching him let out a few shaky breaths before continuing.”  I could tell you, I could tell you exactly what it all means. But that won’t do you any good when Sam finds out. The absolute first thing he will think is ‘its not real’... That it's something put into your head and that's not okay. I can't tell you how you feel. You've  got to figure that out yourself. For both of your sakes.”

 

Castiel shook his head. “What’s not real? Dean, I don’t-”  
  


“Do you think anyone knows to begin with? We all get confused, that's life, man up, listen to what your gut is trying to tell you.” He replied, cutting the angel off. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but perhaps that is what he really needed.

 

He was greeted with a frown. “I don’t know, I’ve never had emotions like this before.”

 

“Neither have most teenagers, but they learn to figure it out, so so can you.”

 

He shook his head. “I’ve been trying! But I can’t and I don't want to hurt Sam!”

 

He stopped. He hadn’t meant to say that.

 

Not out loud.

 

Dean didn’t need to know his fears.

“What?” Dean asked, his head jolting backwards slightly. Castiel deflated even more, walking off so he could sit on a bench a few feet away. Between his walk and all of this, he was getting exhausted. His body pushing itself to its limit.

 

“I don't want to get it wrong. Not with him. I can't make mistakes, I can't risk hurting him. I won't.” He eventually admitted, his eyes down cast. It was all very good saying he just had to figure it out, but what about what Sam would go through in the mean time?

 

What he would put him through.

 

It wasn’t fair.

 

Dean’s expression became blank for a moment,  before he shook his head again. The two of them would be the death of him, he just knew it. He took a deep breath and stood himself up straighter folding his arms across his chest.

 

He knew what needed to be done.

 

“Why?” He asked suddenly and Castiel looked up at him in confusion, his whole posture had changed, almost like someone had flicked a switch and put him into fight mode.

 

“What?” He glanced around, trying to see if there was some sort of threat.

 

“Why don't you want to hurt Sam?” He elaborated, his eyebrows raised. That did nothing to help the angel who simply blinked. Was that not obvious?

 

“Because.” He replied uncertainly. There was something about Dean’s voice that was making him nervous.

 

Dean’s expression remained hard as he continued. “Because what?”

 

Castiel’s frown deepened, the ache in his head only growing as he drew his eyebrows together. He was being looked at as if he was a stranger.

 

“...Sam is my friend.” and you didn’t hurt your friends.

 

“Like I'm your friend?” Dean said without missing a beat.

 

“No.” His voice was more firm with that answer. He knew that much at the very least. He and Sam were nothing like he and Dean. Their friendships were different. He was drawn to Sam, he craved his company, their closeness, their touches. Him and Dean were never that tactile and he had no desire to change that.

“Then why? Why don't you want to hurt him?” Dean pressed on, his jaw locking. Castiel drew his lips together, copying his posture by folding his arms.

 

“What kind of question is that?” He shot back, a defensive feeling coming over him.

 

“The one I'm asking. Because let's be real here, for all I know you're doing this for information.”

 

The angel frowned, his head moving to one side as he tried desperately to understand where this was going and where it had all come from. “What?”

 

Dean took an almost threatening step forward, looking down so he was towering over him.

 

“Maybe you never really switched to our side. Maybe the angels foresaw Sam being awkward and planted a back up.” He paused, grinding his teeth. “You.”

 

“No.” Castiel jumped to his feet, the hair raising on the back of his neck. He couldn’t even stomach the suggestion. How could he possibly think that? He took a side step, getting out of Dean’s space, for once realising what it was like to have it invaded. He didn’t like it.

 

“Yes. They wanted you to gain his trust - Maybe you were working with famine to get him back on the blood all along. So you could take of, could manipulate him, plant that seed of doubt.” He continued, his expression darkening.

 

Castiel vigorously shook his head. “I would never-”

 

Dean cut him off. “It’s all been a big pretence hasn’t it? Except you forgot you don’t know how emotions work, that’s why you're asking all these questions, so you don’t screw up.”

 

“No!” He shouted his time, his heart beat picking up pace again, not that it ever really slowed back down. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that Dean really thought this. His panic only increased when he thought about him telling Sam. The look that would fall on Sam’s face. It took him long enough to convince him he didn't see him as a monster and while a part of him hoped he would have more faith in them than that, the other part knew if it came from Dean… He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

 

“Best way to get him to say yes right.” Dean continued, stepping a bit closer. “Get him to believe in you, so he’d listen when you suggested it.”

 

“No!” This wasn’t supposed to be happening, he couldn’t lose Sam. Couldn’t let him think for even a moment that they were all lies. That he’d done everything as a tactic when the opposite couldn’t be truer.

 

“Really? Then why? Why can’t you hurt him?” Dean pressed on and Castiel desperately searched his face, almost hoping to see the eyes of a demon or Micheal looking back at him. He could deal with that, he could cope with that. At least it wouldnt mean that it was the real Dean talking. That it was the real Dean believing these things.

 

“I-” He didn’t even know what to say, how to convince him and if he couldn’t do it with Dean, what chance did he have with Sam.

 

He felt bile rise up his throat.

 

“What? You what Cas? Thought saying that would fool me? Fool sam?”

 

He was pretty sure he was about to redecorate the curb.“No!”

 

“You’re just afraid your control will break.” Castiel shook his head, his mind desperately trying to think of a spell which could have done this, a witch with a motive against him. He did help with a burning of a town one resided in a few hundred years ago. Maybe she survived.

 

“I'm not controlling him-”

 

Or it was some distant family member.

 

“I think you are.” Dean cut in again, he was barely letting him finish now, his cheeks twitching slightly. Castiel frowned, wondering if that meant anything.

 

A parasite?

 

“No!”

 

A ghost?

 

“Then why!” He shouted that time, his eyes locked on to the angels."Why are yo-”

 

"Because I cherish him!” Castiel yelled back, cutting him off. “So much.” He shook his head, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the panic which engulfed him. “I would never do anything to hurt him. He... means everything to me. You have to believe that. "

 

Dean’s shoulders dropped, his stance becoming a little bit less square and he took a few steps back. His soldier like expression vanished and he smiled slightly. “ I do.”

 

Castiel’s confusion tripled. He did? Then what the hell was all of that about? Was it some sort of sick game? A way to mess with him.

 

His stomach churned more. If this was what it meant to be human, he could not stand it.

 

“I don't understand…” Dean looked at him sympathetically.

 

“Putting someone under pressure, often gets the right answers out of them.” He shrugged a shoulder then reached over to clasp a hand onto Castiel’s arm. “I knew if I put some on you, you’d be able to figure it all out. You don’t need someone to tell you how you feel Cas. You already know. You’ve just got to listen to your gut.”

 

Castiel’s eye’s widened in comprehension.

 

“You did that so I would acknowledge I like Sam?” He asked, wanting to be completely sure. When Dean nodded, his eyes narrowed considerably. “That was cruel.” Beyond cruel, while his panic was dying down now, the exhaustion it brought him was there to say. He felt drained, like he had physically taken a beating despite not a single blow being dealt.

 

“Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.” Dean replied. Perhaps it wasn’t the best way to do it but he couldn’t sit down and have the touchy feely type of conversation the other way required. This got results for them both far faster than gentle probing ever could.

 

Castiel looked away, his expression guarded. A part of him could see why Dean did it, but he was not going to thank him for it.

 

When he looked back, his brow was still creased.

 

“But saying that, doesn’t explain why…” He glanced down to his crotch before looking back up at Dean again.

 

The hunter rolled his eyes, patting him on the shoulder.

 

“Yes it does...” He raised his eyebrows and gave him a knowing look. Castiel squinted as Dean dropped his hand. How did cherishing Sam link to the male reproductive organ? That didn’t make any sense. Dean snorted, shaking his head in disbelief when he realised the angel still didn’t get it. “Dude, do yourself a favour, go and watch some porn.”

 

Castiel tilted his head to the side, drawing back slightly.

“How will that help?”

 

“Oh Jesus Christ.” Dean mumbled, placing his head into one of his hand’s. Castiel frowned, that was the third time he had used the lord’s (or the lord’s son’s) name in vain and he did not appreciate it. “You said you care about Sam yeah.” He nodded, choosing to leave it for now. “Well have a little think about that. Throw a few words into the mix- Like platonic, attraction.” He paused, considering, then smirked. “Desire … and when you figure out where they all fit, then you will know exactly why you got so turned on.”

Dean’s hands found their way to the gate and he unhooked the latch, pushing it open wide. He stepped through fully expecting the angel to follow him. When he realised he wasn’t he glanced back over his shoulder.

He was completely stoic, just staring into space as he went over each word with great care, his mouth moving to say each one in turn.

Dean made a noise at the back of his throat and tried to resist the urge to roll his eyes again.

He hadn’t meant _now._

He shook his head, reaching into his pocket and pulling some money out of it. Castiel didn’t even notice his approach, only registering him when his wrist was suddenly pulled forward and he had something placed into his palm.

“Here, take this, get a bus back, I ain't searching for your ass at 2am.” Dean said, closing the man’s fingers around the dollar bills. He looked from Dean to the money and back again with confusion as the hunter tried to point out a large stick in the road and told him to stand by it later.

He nodded, not really listening and placed the change into his trouser pocket. Dean moved out of his sight again, however Castiel made no attempt to follow his movements, still mulling over the words in his mind and how each one of them related to how he felt about Sam.

He looked back up as Dean’ silhouette disappeared into the shadows, pulling a strange face.

_What the hell did ‘turned on’ mean?_


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out from behind a rock* Hi... I know its been ages I'm so sorry!!!!  
> Been working like crazy to afford Asylum 14.  
> Bright side in two weeks I will have 6 hours of train writing time. 
> 
> Anyway i hope this chapter makes up for it.
> 
> On a side note... WE'VE JUST HIT 100,000 WORDS

Pulling his T-shirt over his stomach, Sam took a step forward and headed out of the bathroom.

"Hey Cas," He started, pushing the door open so he could actually face him. "You know you can answer..." He trailed off, his eyes widening as they scanned over the motel room. It was quiet, too quiet and where there had been a warm welcoming tinge to the place before,  it just seemed cold now.

Cold and empty.

He walked forward, peering around the alcove to the seating area. His lips twisted into a frown when he realised the angel wasn't behind there either. "Cas?"

He turned around in confusion, his forehead creasing.

Where had he gone?

He couldn't fly anymore and Dean had certainly made it clear that he wasn't invited to the bar. So where was he?

Had one of the other angels been?

He felt a shiver run up his spine, a hint of worry seeping into his gut.

Anything could have been happening to him.

He looked around again. His stomach dropping as he caught sight of the familiar trench coat thrown over the back of the sofa. He swallowed hard, finding himself unable to look away as his insides twisted.

_Oh God, he'd heard him._

_He must have heard him._

He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the panic which was rising within him.

There were various other plausible explanations, he tried to reason. Just because he left when he did, didn’t mean anything... He could have got a call from Dean, or Bobby, or one of the angels could have found him and-

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the railroad of thoughts which were hitting him.

Who was he kidding. Why else would he have left it behind? Nothing, short of kidnap, would separate the angel from that garnet.

He wanted to vomit.

He ducked his head, shame building inside of him.

_What the fuck had he done?_

He tried to take a steadying breath as he pushed himself forward, stepping towards the trench coat. Perhaps it wasn't really there, perhaps it was all still one big hallucination. He eyed the material warily before reaching out to touch it.

He never thought he would welcome those things back, that he would beg his mind to be deceiving him. At this point however, every fibre in his being wanted nothing more than for him to grasp at thin air. For his nails to scratch against the edges of textured cotton instead of twill.  His heart sank as his fingers curled around a sleeve.

It was definitely real, it was definitely there.

He closed his eyes again, pulling the coat towards him. Just how horrified did Castiel have to be to just leave it hanging there?

He ran his fingers across the collar and brought it up to his nose. Slowly he inhaled the scent, trying to control the dread that was pooling in his abdomen.

He had to be sure.

He was hit with Castiel’s smell only a fraction of a second later and dropped it back onto the couch as if it had stung him.

_What had he done???_

A moment of weakness and he'd managed to cause a soldier to flee.

His phone beeped again from the dresser and Sam glanced towards it. For a moment, he considered ignoring it, but the compulsion to check, to make sure his family were okay, become too much and he almost lunged for it.

His brother could be screaming for help for all he knew. Dying in a ditch somewhere, on the verge of calling Michael because he wasn't responding to him.

Goosebumps prickled along his skin and he shivered, his hair standing up on end. He clenched his jaw, trying to will them away, as he flicked his phone over.

He couldn't explain it, but it was like every worst case scenario was doing somersaults in his head. The usual fleeting thoughts becoming next to impossible to ignore. It was almost like someone was opening the tabs, instead of just letting them filter away.

He clicked the screen, typing the pass code faster than his fingers would allow.

Somewhere at the back of his mind he heard the start of a little voice, trying to tell him to stop, that something was wrong. His attention drifted towards it for less than a millisecond, before the voice disappeared as a third shiver ran through him, this time causing his whole body to twitch.

He rolled his shoulders and shook his head, doing his best to refocus on the screen. He could find a jumper later. His brother’s name flashed across it and he clicked on it in an instant, his eyes desperately pulling at the words, trying to make his brain read them faster, so he could act sooner.

He read and re read each one, his eyes seeing, but not really understanding. He blinked rapidly and forced his eyes shut, trying to slow his mind back down. He didn’t have a cat in hells chance of making sense of it otherwise.

He opened them again slowly and forced himself to read the message one syllable at a time.

' Teach your angel to fucking swallow'

His expression froze, his head jolting back slightly. For one terrifying second, he thought his heart stopped beating, a breathe caught at the back of his throat, unable to be released. Every single thought, every single doubt he had ever had,  rising up and hitting him all at once.

He read it one more time, the uneasiness growing, causing bile to make its way up his throat.

_No._

_No this wasn't happening._

He forced the air out and sucked some fresh back in.

_He was being ridiculous._

_Dean would never -_

He cut his own thoughts of, a loud, heavy voice arguing back against that, forcing old memories, old fears  to resurface. He shook his head, trying to shake them away, an odd feeling of confusion rising within him.

_His mind wasn't usually this chaotic was it?_

That thought disappeared as quickly as it came and the urge to act rose within him in its place.

He looked back down at his phone, his finger hovering over the reply button. His blood running cold.

What was he supposed to even say to that?

How could he demand answers without sounding like a paranoid freak?

 _Dean wasn't - Dean wouldn't - hell Cas wouldn't ..._ Would he?

He grunted, trying to regain control over his ever spiralling emotions. They both knew how he felt, they would never hurt him in such a way.

_It would break him,_

_Oh God it would break him if they did._

His stomach knotted as the words were repeated over and over in his mind, like they were on some sort of tape recorded loop. He could practically picture the scene.  Okay so maybe Dean hadn’t gone there himself, he was almost certain of that, but they could have been at the bar together-  both of them drunk and someone whose blood ran cleaner than his could have come over. They could have got talking about anything, flirted a little. Dean could easily have been encouraging him along, pointing out the back room...

He shuddered, his hand reaching to the back of his neck, his hair there, prickling at his skin. He pulled at it, clenching his fist.

His chest felt tight, like something was tugging on every negative thought he had ever held and crushing him with it.

Little by little, peice by peice.

He could see it all, the persons face, Dean laughing as they retold the story. Cas blushing as he realised he did it wrong. The way the angel would smile when he saw what a kind soul really looked like. The way they would both realise, that they had no use for someone like him in their lives.

As if they ever did to begin with.

He was a burden, why would they want him around?

Why would anyone want him around?

He would have been better of saying-

He cut that thought of cold. His eyes narrowing, his lips drawing into a thin line. The phone in his hand dropped to the floor, the message he typed without even knowing, remaining unsent. He turned around slowly, and then around and around again, his anger building.

"Stop it." He growled, blinking furiously. He turned to face every corner, every possible hiding place. "Stop it, now. " He was more confident that time, his voice louder.

How had he not seen it sooner?

He felt the fear building inside him again, the thoughts pressing against his skull. He clenched his hands into fists and allowed them to shake at his side.

He understood it now.

Understood everything for what it was.

His mind screamed at him and with every ounce of energy he had, he screamed back. Pushing against every little voice, every little memory with as much mental force as he could muster.

The quieter voice, his voice, got louder and the louder one tried desperately to drown it back out.

Sam shook his head, his eyes hardening with every second that passed. He wouldn't let that happen.

He wouldn't listen to them....He wouldn't listen to him.

"Get.Out"

He should have known, he should have seen the signs.

The words.

The insecurities.

They were all picked from his very own nightmares. But he was awake now and Lucifer had no control over him here. He would not let him break apart the people he cared about the most. Not let him influence how he felt about them or even,  what his worth was to them.

He felt his temperature plummet and cursed himself for not recognising the coldness for what it was before.

He breathed out slowly, fighting with everything he had to get his own thoughts back under his control.

He could feel him still, right at the back of his mind, retreating slightly, but still very much there. Clinging on like he always had.

He should never have dismissed that presence in the past. He had put it down to paranoia, but it was clearly anything but.

He sat himself down on the couch. Placing his head into his hands, his breathing ragged. It wasn't good enough. He needed to fight harder, he needed him gone.

"I said. Get. The. Hell. Out"

\--

Standing outside their motel room door, Castiel shook his hands to try and dislodge at least some of the wet. Water dripped from his hair and he bunched his face up as it splashed onto his cheeks. He was finally coming to understand why humans seemed to hate the rain so much. His clothes seemed to just be sticking to him, leaving the most uncomfortable feeling along his skin.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the handle in front of him. He had been tossing Dean’s words around in his mind the entire ride over, but they had not really helped to make things any clearer. Was he attracted to Sam? He honestly didn’t know how to answer that. He had never judged anyone by their physical appearance before. Human’s were all part of God’s creation and everything created by him was beautiful. Narrowing worth down to certain features didn’t seem right somehow.

He reached out, gripping hold of the handle. Desire was another matter entirely. He desired them to be close, but he had an inkling that that wasn’t the type of desire Dean was referring to.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside and twisted the handle. He took a step forward as he the door opened, trying not to wince as his boots rubbed at the back of his heels. Once inside,  he wasted no time in removing them. He just about managed to get his his suit jacket off too before a flash of lightning lit up the room and he found his attention drawing to the window.

The rumbling sound followed only a second later, causing him to frown.

What exactly had happened to piss his brothers’ off so badly?

When the heaven’s settled, he looked back into the room, slightly taken aback when he saw Sam sitting on the couch, having not even lifted his head to acknowledge his presence.

“Sam?” He said carefully, walking towards the hunter. He had his laptop resting on his knees, pen in his mouth and numerous bits of paper in his hands. His eyes seemed almost glazed over as he stared down at the notes he was working on. As he shifted a yawn, the pen fell to his thighs, bouncing off of them and on to the floor.

It seemed to snap him out of his trance and within seconds, his eyes were on Castiel.

“Hey,” He immediately sat up straighter, clearing his throat. Castiel noted his expression was strained as he placed the papers to his side. The angel narrowed his eyes as he approached him, trying to work out exactly what was wrong. Sam looked completely drained. His skin almost grey, his lips pale and the whites of his eyes, blood red.

“You look awful,” He stated, the worry creeping on to his face.

The hunter snorted.

"You don’t look much better yourself." He replied, closing the laptop lid. His brain seemed to catch up with him only a second after he said it and he winced, before smiling up apologetically. He did an almost double take when he registered the water dripping to the floor. “Dude you're soaked.”

He got to his feet and without saying another word, headed towards the bathroom.

Castiel turned to follow his movements and for the briefest of moments, thought he was off for yet another shower. He didn’t complete his turn however as his trench coat on the couch caught his eye. Curiously he turned his head back to look at it, wondering if Sam had been aware he had been leaning against it.

“Here.”

His attention switched again and he soon found a found a white towel being held out to him in offering.

Castiel eyed the material warily but reached out for it all the same. As soon as he had taken it, Sam headed off again. At first, the angel did nothing, simply stared at the object as if it somehow offended him. When he noticed Sam turning back to look at him however, he reluctantly brought it up to his face.

When he pulled the towel away, Sam was stood in front of him, holding a t-shirt and a pair of trousers this time. “Why don’t you change into these.”

He nodded, smiling in thanks as he quickly worked at the buttons of his shirt. He paused when he got to the last one and his eyes found their way back to the hunter, his head tilting slightly.

“Last time I removed my clothes, you got uncomfortable, do you need me to do this elsewhere?”

The last thing he wanted was for Sam to nearly fall over again. In his current state it was likely he would end up knocking himself out or something.

Sam looked momentarily shocked, before he quickly recovered and shook his head.

“No… it’s fine, I’ll just... turn around.” He swiftly turned his back to the angel placing the clothes onto the bed. His body sank down beside them and his head fell into his hands. Castiel watched him rub at his eyes with a frown, wanting nothing more than to comfort the man and find out what on earth had happened while he had been gone.

He dropped his pants to the floor, reaching out to gather what he presumed were Sam’s clothes.

Another bolt of lightning flashed across the window and Castiel’s drew his eyebrows together, his lips thinning, his suspicions officially peaked.

Once he was fully dressed, in material which practically hung of him, he made his way over and sat down next to Sam. He reached out, placing his hand on the man’s bare arm. Sam flinched, his body recoiling away and Cas shot his hand back in an instant.

Well if he hadn’t been worried before.

“Sam?”

“Sorry.” Sam replied with a strained laugh, wrapping his arms around his midsection. “ Your hands are cold, that’s all.”

Castiel looked down at them, turning them over so they were flat, with his palms facing upwards. Then carefully he drew them together and rubbed them in circles, just like Sam had taught him. He glanced back to the man as he did and eyed him carefully, picking apart his whole posture.

It was too much of a coincidence.

“What did he do?” He asked, a tightness to his voice, for how could it have been anyone else. Sam turned to look at him questionably.

"Nothing."

Cas raised an eyebrow.

"We both know that is not true."

Sam tightened his hold around himself, rubbing at his arms.

"He was just- messing with my head.” He replied with a shrug, his attention on the wall in front of them. “I didn't even know angels could do that outside dreams."

Castiel frowned. "We can’t, we need the mind to be in an unconscious state. Lucifer however was always one to push boundaries. If anyone was to work out how to do it, it would be him."

Sam nodded and Castiel brought his hands up to his mouth, blowing into them. Once he was sure they were significantly warm enough, he reached out to Sam again. He wrapped his arm around the man’s shoulder this time and pulled him into him.

Sam didn’t reject the contract, his body leaning into Castiel’s in an instant. He closed his eyes, his head moving to rest against the angel’s. Castiel smiled softly and squeezed the man’s shoulder, his own body relaxing into the touch.

“So what did you do?”

Sam opened his eyes again, taking in a deep breath, but made no other attempt to move as his ears picked up on another rumble.

“Told him to piss off out my head.” He said it so matter of factly, Castiel had to take a moment to make sure he had actually heard him right.

He repeated the words in his head, trying to decide if there was another meaning to them. When he realised there wasn't, he sat up, pulling away slightly so he could turn his body to face Sam. “What?”

Sam just shrugged, like it wasn't something to be made a fuss of. Castiel found his lips parting, his mouth dropping open. He closed it again awkwardly when he realised what he was doing and shook his head.

That boy.

“You never cease to amaze me Sam Winchester.” He said softly, a hint of both amusement and respect in his tone. Sam looked over to him and as he did, Castiel reached up, running a hand down the side of his face and through his hair. “ The world got lucky with you.”

The things that could be happening to thousands of people, if he had become anyone else, was too awful to even think about. There was not a doubt in Castiel’s mind that anyone else would have caved long ago. John Winchester may not have raised them how he should, but the strength he helped bestow upon them was something to be admired.

He left his palm cupping the back of Sam’s neck and let out a sigh. The hunter frowned, knowing the faraway look all too well.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his eyes travelling along his face. There were bags beneath his lids which hadn’t been their hours ago and his whole posture was resembling that of Sam’s. Tired and heavy.

“My discussion with Dean was rather exhausting.” He admitted, not knowing whether to nod, or shake his head. He was okay in one sense, he was far from distressed, but at the same time, his body just wanted to stop. For him to just give it a little rest instead of continuously pushing it for more. “Emotions are… draining.”

Sam looked at him in confusion, trying to decide what he should take from that. He licked the edges of his mouth, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip as his mind flashed back to that one text message. It was Lucifer playing on his fears, he had to remind himself. It wasn’t what he pictured. He wasn’t about to say anything his mind told him he was.

“Did he upset you?” He asked, trying to block out all the residual thoughts.

“Not as such no.” Sam raised his eyebrows at the uncertainty which filled the angel’s tone. He sounded far from convincing and the hunter was already plotting what vile smelling food he could waft under his brother’s nose come morning, when Castiel hesitantly continued. “He angered me, more than anything.”

“How?”

Castiel’s turned his head away, his lips drawing into a thin line. To explain that, would require him to explain everything and he wasn’t yet sure he could. If he hadn’t worked it out, then how was he supposed to reiterate it to Sam?

He looked back.

He owed him to at least try.

“He accused me of trying to manipulate you.” Sam’s head jolted back slightly and Castiel found his hand slipping from his neck to his shoulder. “Said everything I was doing was a lie and he was to tell you as such.”

He looked into Sam’s eyes, trying to judge the man’s reaction, to see whether there was even the slightest possibility that that was something he already feared. He hoped more than anything it wasn’t.

He saw confusion immediately and squeezed Sam’s shoulder, hoping that was enough to keep him from giving way to fears and doubts.  He saw his eyebrows move just a fraction, his lips parting and cursed.

He opened his mouth again.

He had to stop all of  that dead.

“It is not the case of course. It was his way of making me realise how I felt.” His eyes shifted to the right, then back again. “Feel.” He quickly corrected, not wanting there to be even a fraction of leeway in what was being conveyed.

“Okay?” Sam’s expression was less easy to judge now, more guarded and Castiel wanted nothing more than to smite himself. He should have started that differently. Expressed his known feelings first, and then the reasons for them later. Once again he found his frustrations over his lack of social skills growing.

Sam always seemed to pay the price.

“He thought if I was to foresee losing you, then it would help me understand the things I feel.” He traced his fingers down Sam’s tricep nearest to him, over his elbow, and down his forearm, until their palms were pressed together. He kept his hand still for a moment, giving Sam time to pull away if he chose. When he didn’t, he curled his fingers around Sam’s and squeezed.

“And did it?” Sam’s eyes were focusing on their hands, so Castiel reached out with his other, his thumb coming to rest just under the hunter’s chin. Slowly he drew his hand up, forcing Sam to look back into his eyes.

“I believe so. Yes.”

Sam frowned when nothing else left the angel’s lips.

“Want to elaborate?” His heart was thumping away in his chest as he spoke. A part of him felt like he should know the answer, but he was almost sinking in the doubts that Lucifer had plagued him with. He just wished he had been the one who had planted them there in the first place.That they weren’t something picked from the backs of his own mind.

“This. Here.” He squeezed Sam’s hand again. " What we are. It is all I want.” Sam swallowed hard, trying to silence everything else that was going on inside of him, all the uncertainty and just focus on what Cas was saying. He had never given him reason not to believe his words before. He had no reason to doubt them now. “Losing you is not an option for me. I care for you Sam, more than I thought could ever be possible.”

“Because of whose vessel I am?” He asked, a small break in his voice.

Castiel tilted his head to the side, his forehead creasing.  How could a creature as beautiful as Sam, not see himself for who he was?

“No.” He could never stress that point enough. “Because of who I am. Feeling’s are not something angel’s are ever allowed. They can not be touched upon. For thousands of years, I have watched humanity. Even so... I did not imagine connections could ever be as strong as the one I feel for you.”

His eyes fell to the much larger hand held in his, it engulfed it, yet it still felt like the most perfect of fits. Sam’s gaze dropped to it as well, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to not be able to feel anything, then to suddenly feel everything.

How was the angel not completely overwhelmed?

 “Sam,” He forced himself to look back. “You have doubts about your worth to me, but you should not. What Dean said, could never be true. My… actions, are real.” He paused trying to work out how to say what he needed to, how to convince Sam to believe in what they were. ” We are- You are my-”

Castiel shook his head, words had never failed him before, but everything with Sam seemed to be a stream of firsts. He looked back to the hunter and grinded his teeth in determination. Without saying anything else he pulled at Sam’s hand, bringing it up until it rested against his chest. Slowly he pulled his hand out of his grasp, running his fingers across his skin, until they touched the back of his hand instead. Gently he pressed down, until Sam flattened his palm against him, right above where his heart lay.

“Feel that?” He asked, hoping Sam could feel the pounding underneath their fingertips. Sam nodded, his expression still one the angel could not work out. “That is what you do to me. And when Dean accused me of trying to set you up, it caused me more pain than heaven’s jails ever could. Just the thought that you could believe it to be  true... “ His body shuddered and Sam frowned, feeling every movement, every beat; even the way his muscles tensed at the possibility. “This is what it does to me. This is what you do to me.”

He fell silent, just letting Sam feel his racing heart.

For a moment the hunter did not react, then his eyes shot up to lock with Cas’ and his mouth dropped open slightly to form an 'o'.

For he knew that feeling all too well, had experienced it with Amy, then Jess and then every single day since his eyes first landed on the angel in their motel room.

He swallowed hard, not quite believing what his own brain was telling him. Castiel may not have known the words for it but he sure as hell did.

And it was more than mutual.

Castiel was taken aback to see unshed tears appearing and for horrifying moment he thought he said something wrong again. He desperately tried to find another way to say it, to make his intentions clearer, but as he tried to, Sam moved his hand of his chest, reaching up to wrap it around the back of his neck. He tugged the angel forward and Castiel wasted no time in giving him what he wanted.

He rested his head against Sam’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around Sam’s back as the hunter brought his other arm around him in return. He felt himself sinking in relief, his eyes falling closed - they were not the actions of someone who misunderstood him.

“You need to say it.” Cas eventually said, his voice coming out slightly muffled. Sam made a confused noise in response but did not break them apart. “Say you understand, that you will never doubt the light in which I see you-”

Sam pulled away, though only a fraction, just enough so he could see his face.

“I understand.” He replied simply, his smile larger than the one Castiel had come to know.

“No matter what Lucifer or Dean say.” Castiel clarified, his eyes desperately searching Sam’s face for any sign that he was just saying what he wanted to hear.

Sam nodded. “I promise.”

Castiel returned the smile, feeling like a pressure had been lifted from his shoulders. “I’ll hold you to that.”

His eyes fell closed again and he soon felt a tug on his arm. Without re opening them, he allowed himself to be guided properly onto the bed.

“You should get some sleep.”

Castiel nodded, rather ungracefully collapsing down on to the pillows. He heard a small laugh above him and pulled a face. Before Sam knew what was happening, strong arms gripped around him, pulling him into a laying position as well.

“If I have to, so do you.” He grumbled, refusing to break his hold. He could feel Sam laughing this time as his head came to rest against the side of his shoulder. He felt the warmest feeling erupt inside of his chest and soon rested his own head against Sam’s.

If he died tomorrow, he would be happy, he decided.

They laid silently for a few minutes, before Castiel’s eyes opened again, though this time, only briefly. He tapped Sam’s cheek, making him tilt his head to look at him.

“What you achieved today, is the most impressive thing I have ever heard of. You should be proud of yourself.” He closed his eyes again, his body finally giving in to what it wanted. “I sure am.”

The last thing Castiel registered before he drifted off, was Sam’s lips smiling against his skin.

He decided right there, he would do anything to make that a more permanent feature.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre warning. I torture Sam a bit, Read at your own discretion

There was pain, and flashes and fingers wrapping around his neck. Sam tried to roll, tried to kick out, tried to do anything to dislodge the weight that pinned him down. Each attempt was as useless as the last. He couldn’t move, could barely inhale enough air to keep the oxygen flowing to his brain. He tried to gasp, to scream, to make any sort of sound, but nothing could force its way out.

Lucifer’s face was inches away from his own, his eyes burning with hell fire. His skin crackling as the grace raged underneath it, almost splitting the vessel apart.

It was a deadly reminder of the power he possessed.

As Lucifer leaned closer, Sam felt every muscle inside of him tense, begging the devil to get away, to leave him be.

‘Get out’ He tried, pushing with the same force as before. He could do this. It wasn’t that different. Lucifer may have had a body now but he was still just a presence in his mind.

An unwanted presence at that.

He pushed and he pushed with the last of his strength.

His assailant didn’t even flinch.

Sam felt himself sink in defeat, exhausted beyond what he knew to be possible.

The face above him smirked, his voice rasping as he spoke out in Enochian.

Sam tried to whip his head away, as if that would somehow protect his ears from the onslaught of an angel’s true voice. Lucifer rolled his eyes at the attempt, raising his tone and pressing his lips closer, enjoying the sight of blood trickling down Sam’s neck.

‘Stop’ Sam silently begged as he tried to close his eyes, to try any means of blocking out what was happening. They wouldn't budge, his face paralyzed by the touch of freezing cold grace.

Lucifer said something else, a threat as clear as day and Sam’s vision slowly changed. In the darkness that surrounded them he could see it all. Every word that was spoken.

Dean was being chained to a rack, Castiel’s wings were being torn from his back. Bobby, Ellen and Jo were having their eyes burnt out one by one.

There were tortured screams and pleas for it to stop.

Sam practically whimpered, but still his answer remained same.

No. He would not consent.

In an instant Lucifer’s face darkened and Sam felt a hand give up on his neck and slowly crawl its way down his chest, pushing the fabric out of the way. Sam flinched but could do nothing to stop the nails digging into his skin. He hoped that would be the worst of it, that he would just draw a little blood.

The sadistic smirk that appeared above him, soon told the hunter otherwise.

Without warning, he pressed with all his might into Sam.

Sam’s stomach clenched, trying to bend him over double. Lucifer refused to allow the move however as his fingers seemed to disappear into a gaping hole in Sam’s chest.

He could just about see a glow as pain unlike anything you could ever imagine, went rippling through him.

This time, he did manage to scream.

“SAM!”

The hunter gasped, his body lunging forward, suddenly free of any hold it was under. He coughed violently, his hands coming up to rub at his neck and chest. He could breathe again but there wasn’t enough air in the world to fill his lungs. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulder and Sam wanted desperately to just crawl away from it.

To escape any form of touch.

“Sam it’s alright.”

He turned his head slowly, his breathing still ragged and blinked, trying to work out what on earth was going on.

He was in the motel room again, a different angel sat by his side, rubbing his back in an action which was supposed to sooth, but just made his stomach churn. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he found himself shaking his head to try and dislodge it.

He coughed again, his hands running through his hair. He pulled his shaking hand away in confusion as he realised just how wet it was.  He frowned as his eyes drifted down to the T-shirt which was now clinging to his skin.

He must have sweated up a storm.

“It's over." Castiel said and Sam’s eyes darted to his, his forehead creased.

He didn’t understand.

What was going on?

Where had Lucifer gone?

Why had the pain stopped?

What had he even been doing to him?

He straightened up, moving backwards to collapse against the headboard.

Had he been dreaming? It felt so real.

He pressed against the spot Lucifer’s hand had been, expecting to feel the wound. He frowned as he realised there was nothing there, even if the skin felt slightly tender. His eyes shot to Castiel’s and he desperately searched them for answers.

“What?” Was all he managed to choke, his throat stinging from just that simple word.

Castiel’s expression was pained, as his own eyes drifted up and down the hunter.

“It was just a dream Sam.”

Sam shook his head, slowly at first then more vigorously.

No, no that wasn’t a dream. It was as far from a dream as you could get.

“It didn’t feel like one.” He replied, before coughing again. Everything hurt, his ears, his throat, his chest. It couldn’t have possibly been just in his head.

“I know, but it was.” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder, causing the man to jump slightly, his head turning to look at the hand that was still resting on him.

He had forgotten it was there.

He let out a shaky breath and tensed even more as he felt the angel pull him towards him.

“It’s alright Sam. Let me help.”

He didn't want him to, not right now, not just yet.

Still as soon as he came to rest against him, he deflated into the embrace. He closed his eyes, surprised when he realised he could.

For a moment he concentrated on nothing but breathing, before his eyes shot open again.

This wasn’t right.

He pulled away, frowning deeply as he moved his shoulder, so the angel’s hand dropped off of him.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked, his head tilting to one side as he carefully lowered his arm back onto the bed.

Sam shook his head, his lips parting as he licked at them.

He eyed the angel carefully, taking in every inch of him.

“Sam.” Castiel tried again, worry edging its way onto his face.

Sam clenched his fist, a shiver running down his spine.

“Torture is not going to get me to say yes.” He stated simply.

It was Castiel’s turn to frown. “Of course its not.”

Sam shook his head again. He eyed the angel’s concerned face carefully for a second before making a snap decision and lunging forward.

Castiel was taken by surprise to say the least as the body collided with his own. He instantly fell back, his shoulders banging against the bottom of the bed.

“And neither is this.” Sam snarled, this time his fingers being the ones to cause harm.

Castiel looked up at him in confusion, shifting uncomfortably under his grip.

“Sam?” He tried but the hunter just glared down at him, his lips pressed together, hard and determined.

He wasn't wrong.

He knew he wasn't wrong.

“Don’t!” The confusion remained for only a second before the eyes below him narrowed and the jaw locked. “It’s not going to work. Your not him!”

Sam pushed down hard on the angel’s shoulders, before he pulled himself away. He got of the bed, anger replacing everything else he had once felt.

How dare he? How dare he!

“You don’t get to do this.” He all but shouted.

The angel sat up, a small yet slightly impressed smirk appearing at the corner of his lips.

“You can’t stop me” He said, but it was no longer Castiel’s voice that Sam heard being spoken.The hunter held his hand out, using it as a barrier to stop the man getting any closer to him. Lucifer stood up anyway, a look of amusement falling into place. “You can’t ever stop me.”

“Saaaam!”

Sam jumped his eyes darting to his right. Dean was there, on his knees, blood soaking through his grey T shirt. He opened his mouth, choking as the liquid made its way down his chin.

“Sam please.” He span again, his heart stopping at the sight of long wavy blonde hair. She was wearing exactly what she was the last time he saw her, before she burned above him. "Or he turns me into this.” Her eyes flashed black and Sam felt himself stumbling back.

He hit into something and immediately turned to face it, his cheeks draining of colour as his father looked back at him.

He moved his eyes away, only to see Bobby with half his face missing, Ellen and Jo curled up on the floor, his fourth grade teacher with his neck snapped.

He closed his eyes and pulled his arms around himself, trying to ignore it all.

They started screaming, begging and pleading.

Sam squeezed his eyes tighter.

It wasn't real. They weren't really going through this.

‘Wake up’ He mouthed to himself, he could hear footsteps now, ‘Castiel’ edging towards him, the temperature of the room, dropping dangerously low.

‘Wake up!’He tried again, as hands curled around his wrists.

Wake up,

Wake up,

Wake up!

 

 

 

\-----------------

 

 

 

He sat up with a jolt, his body trembling, his breathing ragged. A tortured noise left the back of his throat as he tried desperately to draw in air. For a moment, Sam didn’t dare open his eyes. The screams had come to a halt, yet the cold still lingered on his skin.

Blowing out slowly, Sam clenched his fists at his side and braced himself. He would never know if he did not look and he was anything but a coward.

Ever so slowly he cracked open one eye and peered out into the dark motel room.

It looked the same, but he already knew that would be the case. Carefully he turned his head, his eyes desperately searching for his angel. His shoulders dropped in relief as they landed on the sleeping form next to him, curled up on his side. A light snore leaving his lips.

He lifted his hand, uncurling his fingers to reach out to touch him, but paused before he got all the way there.

Castiel was human now, human and exhausted, he needed his sleep. Who was Sam to disturb him, when he knew first hand how difficult it was to function without it?

He wanted to check, needed to check, but he couldn't bring himself to move any closer.

He breathed out heavy again, trying to steady his palpitating heart as he reluctantly edged his hand away.

He placed it on his own chest instead, gripping and ungripping at the fabric which covered him.

It still hurt, that couldn’t be right?

Did that mean he was still trapped with Lucifer?

It terrified him to know he couldn't be sure.

He almost got up to look in the mirror, just to make sure his lungs weren't actually hanging out of his chest. He got as far as pushing back the covers, before a chill hit him and he desperately pulled them back around himself.

He couldn't do it.

He leant forward more, a small tremor running through him.

He was okay, he tried to convince himself, everything was okay.

Perfectly okay.

He pulled his legs into his chest.

If only he could believe that.

\---------------------

Castiel found his senses coming back to him slowly. First he was aware that he was aware, then that he was laying on something soft, then that he was capable of opening his eyes again. He tried not to shudder at the feelings, he did not think he would ever get used to them. He flexed his hand, his eyes shooting open when he realised he could no longer feel a body next to his.

He was greeted by the sight of Sam’s hip and found himself licking his lips. He pulled a face at his own reaction and cleared his throat, propping himself up onto his elbows.

It was far from comfortable.

“Sam?” He said quietly, not wanting to startle him. The more he took him in, the more his gut twisted uneasily. Something was wrong. It had to be. Sam was too hunched over and his hands were almost locked to his chest. His hair covered his face but Castiel didn’t need to see his expression. “Sam.” He tried again, a little louder this time.

Sam’s head turned, just a fraction towards him and he took it as his cue to move. He sat up beside him, shuffling forwards slightly so he could sit in front of him.

“Are you alright?” He reached forward, placing his hand, just by, yet not quite touching, his hip. He needed some sort of reaction before he would dare to touch him. He would not cause him to flinch again.

Sam nodded, but his face was almost vacant and Castiel immediately shook his head.

No, no he wasn’t.

“What’s wrong Sam?”

Sam’s eyes immediately snapped to his, distrust evident and for a moment Castiel wondered what he said that was so wrong. He seemed to be searching for something, so the angel remained perfectly still, determined to let Sam find what he needed.

When his eyes broke away, dropping to the bed-sheets, Castiel moved his hand just a fraction to touch his skin.“Talk to me.”

Sam’s attention followed the movement, staring at the touch with a guarded expression. His face was almost grey and Castiel found himself taken aback by his appearance. 

The hunter bit at his lip, not daring to look anywhere else as he answered.

“I’m never sleeping again.”

His voice was rough and Castiel squinted in response, his head moving slightly to the side.

“I don't believe that’s an option.” he replied carefully. Then as an afterthought. “Lucifer?”

He didn't know why he asked, he didn't need a confirmation to know it was something to do with him.

Sam nodded, yet still did not look up.

Castiel frowned before reaching over and cupping the back of Sam’s neck with his other hand. He kept the contact light, barely there as he studied his reaction. When Sam’s lips twitched, his expression almost breaking, Castiel strengthened his hold, pulling the man towards him.

Sam was tense and the angel almost let go, but just as he was about to, strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him back with a grip which showed his desperation.

“Why did you not wake me?” Castiel asked, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder, listening to him inhaling his scent. It all concerned him to no end.

“You're Cas.” Sam muttered under his breathe, almost as if he was in a world of his own and Castiel squinted in confusion.

“Yes? Who else would I…” He trailed off. Of course. That was a stupid question. “Yes Sam I’m- me.”

Sam nodded a little less guarded. The differences were subtle, barely something you would pay attention to if you were simply observing - but they were what made Cas, Cas. The longer he relaxed into the angel, the more certain he became.

“You're warm.”

Castiel nodded, but remained silent as he slowly ran his hands up and down Sam’s back. Nothing he could say would make it better or make Sam forget what he had seen. This was best he could do as a human.

He just hoped it would be enough.

As minutes ticked by, Sam’s grip around him failed to loosen. It only made Castiel's concern for him deepen. The man who brushed everything off, who always assured people he was fine, just wanting to be held? It wasn't right.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of something, anything to make it better, but his mind drew a blank. He sighed, squeezing his arms instead, praying it would be enough to convey that he was there for him, for whatever he needed, whenever he needed it.

Eventually Sam pulled back and Castiel reluctantly dropped his hold.

“Sorry.”  Sam spoke before he cleared his throat awkwardly. He looked the angel in the eye, offering him a weak smile before looking away and drawing almost back into himself.

Castiel frowned. “You don’t have to apologise for needing something I am willing to give.”

Sam looked back, the smile a little less strained this time, even if it remained half hearted.

He didn't want to become to much. Relationships were about give and take but all he was managing to do recently was take. At some point, Castiel was going to loose his patience. 

Castiel moved his hand, running his fingers down the side of Sam's face. A much needed reassurance that he meant every word.  The hunter practically sank into the touch. His eyes droping closed.

“I tried to kick him out I - I couldn’t do it.”

He opened his eyes again. It was the last thing he wanted to tell the angel, but he needed to say it, he needed him to know he hadn’t just let the things happen to him without trying to do something to stop it. He shuddered, the feeling of those fingers wrapping around his very essence still fresh in his mind. A chill ran through him and he brought his hands back up to his chest.

It was like he was still there, pressing inside of him. A constant reminder that was never going to leave him.

He took in a deep breathe as the panic started to rise, his heart beating out of control.

It was in his head.

It had to be in his head. He had touched him, but he wasn’t there, he wasn’t-

His thoughts were cut of as Castiel’s hands covered his own.

“What did he do?” The angel asked, suspicion falling onto his face. There was something different going on here. Something that went so much deeper than it ever had before. He could feel Sam’s heart, practically jumping out of his chest. It wasn’t normal, not when he had been awake for so long.

“I don’t know.” Sam shrugged, because he didn’t, not really, he wasn't sure he even believed what his own eyes had seen. All he knew was it felt like he was touching _him_ and it hurt. A lot.

He pinched at his skin and Castiel had to practically pry his fingers away.

“Stop. You will hurt yourself.” He scolded.

Sam shook his head. Nothing could hurt as much as _that._

He must have said it out loud, because Castiel’s expression changed again, his eyes squinting, taking in every part of him. He pulled Sam’s hands so they rested in between them, refusing to let them go. For Sam’s sake, as well as his own.

He felt the anger building inside of him, but tried his best to not let it show.  He was starting to get a pretty good idea of exactly what it was that Lucifer had done to his friend. He felt his insides rage at just the thought. The hole where his grace should be twisting as it imagined throttling the life out of the Devil.

His hands shook slightly and Sam’s eyes were suddenly on him.

He glanced down, willing them to still. Sam didn’t need anger right now.

“If anyone can stop him, it's you. You need to have more faith in yourself.” He said, ignoring Sam's silent question. He moved his eyes, to look back up at him, but they stopped when they got to his chest and try as he might, he could not get them to move again. He could practically picture it. Lucifer touching his very soul. Sam begging for him to stop. The pain he must have been in, would have been unbearable.

He locked his jaw.

To touch a human's soul was the worst form of invasion an angel could partake in.

It made him feel physically sick to think he had put Sam through that.

“I think you have too much faith in me.” Sam replied, licking his lips, his eyes downcast. “I might as well have not even tried, for all the good it did."

Castiel broke his gaze.

“Did you believe it would work?” The look that crossed the hunter’s face told him more than enough. He shook his head. “Sam, you fought of the hunger bestowed on you by a Horseman and still you doubt your strength?”

Sam looked up, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Why was he bringing up that now?

“That's completely different.”

Castiel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “No it's not.”

“Giving in isn't a sign of strength Cas, I did what had to be done. Dean wasn’t even affected by him, if anyone has strength its him. You’re looking at the wrong brother.” Couldn't he see that? A drop more blood in his system and it would have been a whole other story. What he did, was nothing. It was correcting a wrong which should have never been.

Castiel shook his head, his face tightening.

“Dean’s achievements do not belittle your own. You saw the effect famine had on that town, they indulged until they killed themselves. You fought back, like you always do. That is the achievement Sam, that is what shows your strength. Not not giving in, but finding it within yourself to fight back when you did.”

Sam looked away and Castiel bit down in annoyance. This was really something that they had to work on. The hunter looked so drained though, so resided. He couldn't put him through the argument now. Enough had been done to him tonight.

Still he couldn't just leave it.

The sooner Sam saw his strength, the sooner he could make sure Lucifer never did something like that to him again.

That had to be his priority, or Sam would withdraw into himself until there was nothing left of the man he was.

“Do you perceive me as weak?” He asked, taking great care to keep his expression blank. Sam’s attention shot to him in an instant, a deep frown falling into place.

“Of course not!” How could he even think that?

Castiel tilted his head. If an angel could end up in hell, he would go there for this. “I was under the effect of Famine and could not fight it, if you do not consider what you did, an act of great strength, then you must view me as incredibly weak?”

Sam’s eyes widened and Castiel refused to let himself react.

“N-No, No Cas.” He shook his head. “I- I don’t.” He stopped, forcing out a deep breathe. That wasn’t it at all. “You’re hunger… it was different.”

“No, it wasn’t.” He answered without missing a beat. Sam opened his mouth to say something again but no sound came out. Castiel felt a pang of something in his chest, but forced himself to ignore it. If this was the only way to get him to see the truth, then it was just what had to be done.

He had to see, he had to understand.

“Cas.” Sam said almost breathlessly, his head continuously moving side to side. That wasn’t it at all, he couldn’t let him think it was. “He was a horseman… Of course I don't- I mean you couldn’t- What I did was-.”

“Amazing?” Castiel prompted, raising his eyebrows, daring the hunter to disagree. Sam’s eyes snapped to his, the panic giving way slightly as he took in the completely unoffended look on the angel’s face. Castiel’s head shifted again to the side, a small tug of a smile at the corner of his lips.

Sam deflated, his lips still parted.

“That was mean.” He eventually settled on saying. Castiel squeezed his hands.

“Yet necessary for you to see what you're capable of.”

Sam shook his head, looking away. He didn’t see it that way. Dean was strong, Dean resisted everything. Besides he didn’t give in to lust, or the desire for meat, but blood. Actual blood. There was something so much worse about that.

He felt one of Castiel’s hands pull away from his and suddenly it was under his chin, pulling his face back around to look at him.

“You have a strength no one foresaw Sam, You are incredible.”

“Stop saying that.” He replied quietly, not understanding how the angel could possibly think it. It didn’t matter how many times he heard it, he would never come to believe it.

It was Castiel’s turn to shake his head.

“Never.” He replied, running his thumb across Sam’s chin and along his jaw bone. It took everything Sam had to not look away.

It was too much.

“I can’t do it.” He all but whispered.

Castiel heard it anyway.

“Yesterday I may have agreed with you, but look what happened there. You pushed him out of your head once. You turned a horseman to dust. That capability is in you Sam, just believe in it, like I do.” He moved his hand to cup the back of his neck again. “It is your mind, your dreams, he has no right to be there, so take control.”

He felt Sam shallow hard, the uncertainty showing through his eyes. But uncertainty he could work with, uncertainty was no longer flat out denial.

“How?” How was he ever meant to be able to do that?

“How did you say no to the demon blood? How did you get Lucifer out of your head yesterday? Only you know the answer.” Castiel replied, loosening his hold on Sam’s hand and moving it to his knee instead. He wished he could give him more than that, but he didn’t even know how it was possible himself. It was only through seeing it with his own eyes, did he dare believe it had happened at all.  A soul having the strength that an angel did not, was not a concept to have ever been acknowledged within the garrisons.

Sam narrowed his eyes, considering the point carefully. How had he done it? He didn’t remember much, just being angry, feeling invaded, wanting to protect the people he cared about. It all just built up and it was something he clung on to. He wasn’t afraid then, the determination to stop what was happening outweighing everything else.

“I-” Maybe that was where he went wrong before. He was plagued with fear and pain and just wanted Lucifer gone, but it was desperation which spurred him on not his own will power. “Just...” Was he right? If he worked on blocking everything else out and just focused, could he do it? Could protect himself from the devil?

Castiel watched him intently, his fingers running through the ends of Sam’s hair . He could see a thousand different emotions crossing the boys face but failed to name them all. Still it was the one it eventually settled on that gave him hope.

As Sam’s eyes hardened, looking more stubborn than ever, Castiel found himself smiling. That was the man he had come to care so much for.

“You can do it Sam.” He said softly, his hand moving again so it was flat against his neck, his finger gently pressing into his skin.

He felt his heart swell as he looked at him. The more time they spent together, the more he just wanted to be with him.

Sam took a few deep breathes, his eyes not breaking contact with the angel’s, before he nodded once firmly.

He could.

Lucifer didn’t get to do this to him.

Castiel found himself nodding back, a proud smile forming its way onto his face. When Sam’s eyes dropped closed he pulled him towards him again, his hand sliding a little bit further up his leg. Sam didn’t object in the slightest, allowing his head to fall on to Castiel’s shoulder. His hands moving around the angel’s waist.

He didn’t need to know what the real heaven was like, he was experiencing it right there, in that room.

He turned his head slightly, his hair flopping forward, covering his face. Castiel had to hold back a small chuckle at the sight. Gently he brushed it out of the way, his fingers tracing across the man’s cheek.

Without really thinking he lowered his head more, and pressed his lips into the centre of Sam’s forehead. He left them against Sam’s skin for a few seconds before drawing away just a fraction.

Sam’s eyes flickered back open and he lifted himself of the angel’s shoulder, supporting his own weight. His heart was thudding a mile a minute but he did not put any space between them.

Castiel swallowed hard, his tongue unconsciously running across his bottom lip.

They stayed like that, completely still for a moment, but as Sam went to look away, Castiel’s thumb found its way back to his chin. He didn't know what he was doing, but for once he didn't even think about it. Giving way to his gut. The action caused Sam to pause and before he knew what was happening, Castiel was pulling him in, catching his lips with his own.

Sam was pretty sure his heart stopped beating. He had imagined this moment happening in a thousand different ways, a thousand times over, but none of them came close to the real thing.

The kiss was soft, uncertain and as Castiel pulled away, he rested his forehead against Sam’s.

He had no idea if what he had done was acceptable. He’d seen people kissing before, but never had he paid attention to the mechanics of it.

All he knew was he wanted it to happen with Sam.

“Did I do that right?” He asked, the warmth of his breathing running across Sam’s lips.

Sam couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, his face bunching up as he nodded.

Castiel smiled. “Good.”

And with that he closed the distance again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I better hear some squealing ;)  
> Though in all seriousness i hope this worked okay.  
> I feel like its been a 23 chapter build up and i would hate for it to be a big let down
> 
> On a side note, because i dont have many people in real life to fangirl over stuff with... I TOOK PART IN A FUCKING CONGA LINE WITH MISHA FUCKING COLLINS


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance...

Sam wasn’t entirely sure when he fell asleep, if he was completely honest he didn’t even remember lying down. Yet when he opened his eyes, he was back under the covers, his head resting on top of Castiel. Fingers were tracing down the length of his spine, almost lulling him back to sleep. He would have given in, if wasn’t for the feeling he was being watched. He groaned, turning his head into Castiel’s chest. He felt the angel’s shoulders shake beneath him and moaned in protest to the movement. When they didn’t stop, he reluctantly twisted his head back around, his forehead rubbing against the old T-shirt.

“Are you watching me sleep?” He asked, peering up at him with groggy eyes, not at all surprised to see a pair of vibrant blue ones staring back at him.

“Yes, I miss it.” The angel replied, completely unfazed at being caught. While there was definitely some benefits to actually sleeping with Sam wrapped in his arms, it wasn’t quite the same as being free to just watch him. "How did you sleep?”

Sam blinked, reaching up to brush his hair from his face.

“Shouldn’t you already know the answer to that?" It was after all, supposed to be the main reason he sat with him, even if others had slipped in there unexpectedly.

Castiel shook his head. If only that were the case.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve suffered without any physical signs..” He replied, trailing his arm further down Sam’s back.

The hunter sighed, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment as his body practically pressed into the touch. He soon lifted his head however and shifted of off Castiel, propping himself up on his elbows by his side instead.

The angel had to force his expression not to fall into a frown. It had only been a few hours, not nearly long enough for his liking and he had so been enjoying having him so close. He could see his features as clear as if he were an angel again from that distance. The early signs of stubble prickling through on his chin. The shape of the little mole just to the left of his nose. The small lines which appeared along his forehead, barely noticeable when his face was soft, but still very much there. Then of course, there was the variety of colours that swam in his eyes when he opened them, making it damn near impossible to narrow them down to a single one. It was all so detailed, so perfect, so Sam.

“He didn’t come back.” The hunter confirmed and for a millisecond, Cas found himself wondering who he was talking about, too lost in his face for his mind to properly focus. He caught himself just before he voiced his thoughts outloud however and nodded firmly. “Not sure what I would have done if he had.” Sam continued, causing the angel to squint.

“You would have fought him off. Like we spoke about.” It wasn’t a question, it didn’t need to be. He had no doubt that Sam was more than capable of finding his strength. If Lucifer had come back, they would have been celebrating Sam’s achievement right now. It was that simple.

“Yeah, - Well I mean I would have tried.” He replied, licking his lips, his eyes travelling around the room rather than focusing on his friend. While he understood his earlier point, that maybe he was capable of something others were not, that didn’t mean he could fully accept it. The boy with the demon blood having the strength to stop an archangel? It didn’t seem right somehow.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed more, almost as if he could read the hunter’s thoughts. Without really thinking, he reached over, prodding Sam gently on the end of his nose. “And you would have succeeded.”

Sam’s eyes darted back to his, his nose twitching as he went cross eyed to look down at the offending finger. The angel seemed to realise what he had done only seconds later and he hesitantly withdrew it, his forehead creasing.

That had not been his intention.

His shoulders tightened and he glanced towards the hunter to gauge his reaction. He exhaled in relief when he realised what he saw was the beginnings of amusement.

“What was that for?” Sam asked, a slight catch in this tone, as if he was suppressing a laugh.

“I’m not sure.” Cas replied, turning his palm over to inspect, as if he was seeing his hand for the first time. The action only caused Sam to crack up completely and he ducked his head into his chest,  his nose scrunching as he let out a laugh.

The angel turned his attention back to him, his lips tugging slightly into a smile at the sight.  Perhaps he would do it again if that was the result.

Sam lifted his head back up, shaking it to knock the hair that had fallen into his face out of the way. For a moment he just stared at the angel, his head tilted, then he shifted his weight onto his side and reached towards his stomach to return the gesture. “Weirdo.”

“Hhmf.” The angel blew out instantly, his body shaking, his abdominal muscles tightening under Sam’s touch.

Sam dropped his hand, his mouth falling open as Castiel froze. For a moment, neither of them moved, then slowly Castiel’s eyebrows drew together and his lips parted.

Where did that come from?

He drew his head up so he could look down at his midsection in confusion. He had come to understand that touch produced many different reactions within a person, but that sensation had completely caught him of guard.

What was it? Why did he react that way?

He glanced over to Sam wanting an explanation, only to find a strange smile overtaking his features.

“Sam?” He said with narrowing eyes, watching as his expression flickered with things that Castiel didn’t even have a word for. Just when he thought he had Sam’s mannerisms all figured out, the light behind his eyes decided to dance. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him want to back away, something in his head warning him of upcoming danger.

“You’re ticklish…” Sam eventually spoke, his tone slightly higher than normal, his tongue coming out to lick at the bottom of his lip as he dragged the wording out.

“Sam....” Castiel repeated, eying him nervously this time. Despite his conviction that he would never do something to hurt him, he felt his body tilting away, his eyes locking onto Sam’s hand as it edged closer to him.

Almost on instinct, Cas’ hand came up to block Sam’s path, his stomach clenching uneasily as it prepared itself.

Sam’s reflexes were faster than the angel anticipated and he quickly managed to divert his arm so it slipped under Castiel’s instead. Before he could react, fingers were reaching under his T-shirt and wiggling against his skin.

The response was instant. Castiel doubled over, a second, more continuous laugh leaving his lips. He tried to roll, to escape it, but Sam clearly knew what he was doing and his motions only increased.

He squirmed, the laugh louder and suddenly Sam was pushing himself up onto his knees, his other hand moving towards him as well once he was balanced enough. Both of them joining together to work just under his ribs. Castiel found his head falling back, the force of the laughter only managing to increase as his face broke out into a smile. He tried again to roll onto his side, to turn his back to him, but that only caused Sam to move his hand lower and oh God that was so much worse.

“S-am, wha-t” He crackled, trying his best to push the hands away, but he didn’t have the strength in him to do more than bat.

He felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as Sam worked his way up to his armpits and he practically curled into a ball.

He had come to understand the pleasantness of human touch alongside the pain it could cause, but this, this was something else. He didn’t understand the feelings which were erupting inside of him, why such little movements brought on  the sensations they did, or even why were they causing him to laugh.

Laughter was a reaction to something funny, this wasn’t funny? This was something no angel had ever mentioned before. They had knowledge on reproductive activities, human’s engaging in it for pleasure, of kisses to show they cared, of violence to show hatred. Squirming and laughing due to tingling sensations brought on by fingers? That was not part of the deal. He certainly hadn’t seen Sam do it to anyone else before. His stomach was seizing,  his skin prickling and - fuck.

There was something about the spot that Sam had chose, which caused him to bite down hard on his lip. He moved just a fraction more and Cas’ toes coiled, his head throwing itself forward, then back, as a louder laugh escaped him. Sam’s hands moved back to his hips and his ribs started to ache from the vibrations he was putting his body through.

Sam’s face was suddenly hovering above him, the glee clear for anyone to see. Castiel tried to compose himself and gave him his sternest look. It lasted for maybe half a second. The hunter seemed to lose it at his expression, continuing his assault through his own laughs.

“SaaaaaM!” Cas tried again, his voice coming out in a tone that took the angel by surprise. He was a warrior, not a winner. The thought seemed to spur him on and he somehow managed to control his arm long enough to reach for Sam’s wrist, pulling it away.

“Do you want me to stop?” The man asked, but the glint was still there and Castiel had the feeling it was not even close to a sincere offer.

“Yes.” He said all the same, locking his arm straight so Sam couldn’t get his hand closer. In his fleeting feeling of triumph, he forgot human’s had two, one of which was still pressed to his side. He hissed, as those fingers moved again, trying to twist himself away. That was all the distraction Sam needed to wiggle his hand free. It went to the edge of his neck this time and Castiel shivered, the tears finally breaking through. “SAM!”

His laughter got harder and he had to clench his thighs as the strongest urge overtook him. “I will urinate if you - you- don’tttt sto...”

Sam’ ducked his head, grinning, but his fingers stopped their attack all the same, pulling away from him slightly. It gave Castiel the chance to finally get his breath back. He lay there, waiting for his body to still. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out, three- four, possibly five times, before he could bring himself to open them again.

He glared up at the hunter when he did, his confusion coming back in full force.

“What was that?” He asked, his lips drawing together.

Sam’s face still held a look of what Castiel now decided was deviltry, but he was relieved to see it was more controlled now, less likely to egg him on to continue.

“It’s called tickling,” He replied, dropping his hands into his lap. Castiel simply frowned, a name really did not make things any clearer for him. Sam seemed to realise this too and he sat back onto his calves, his demeanour sobering up. His eyes traveled to the left as he tried to think of a better way to explain it. “The urr, the movement stimulates your nerve endings, and that, that causes you to laugh.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed and Sam cursed at himself. What on earth had he been thinking? Well, he wasn’t thinking, that was the problem. He so rarely acted on impulse around the angel and looking at him now, he realised this was exactly the reason why.

“Angel’s don’t really do that kind of thing with each other do they?” Even as he spoke he wished his brain would just shut up.

Castiel tilted his head, looking at Sam quizzically. “No? We are- light, we do not have - nerve endings.”

Sam nodded, his eyes closing,  he knew that. Of course he knew that. If it hadn’t of been common sense, Castiel’s reaction to the whole thing should have clued him up.

“Sorry.” His voice was different this time and the angel watched as the new expression vanished completely. He had the strongest urge to say something to reassure Sam in someway, but he didn’t know what it was he was apologising for. As far as he was concerned, nothing that had happened warranted it.

Deciding he was better of just not, he reached down instead, lifting his T shirt up to expose his stomach. While he wasn’t focusing on it, he could just about see the bewilderment which quickly filled Sam’s face. He stared down at the bare skin for a moment before he reached for it and repeated Sam’s movements just under his vessels ribs. His face scrunched up when nothing happened and he looked back at the hunter as if he had just been lying to him.

“Why is it not working now?” Perhaps Sam’s fingers possessed some sort of power that his did not.

The hunter couldn’t suppress the snort that followed, his previous worry over the situation soon forgotten. “No, Cas- you can't do it to yourself.”

Castiel squinted, allowing his hand to fall back onto the bed. He pushed himself up slightly, so his shoulders could rest against the headboard. “Why not?”

“I-” Sam paused, his forehead wrinkling as he considered it. “-Don’t know actually. But you just can’t.”

Cas glanced back down at his hand, moving his fingers in mid air in the same way Sam had been moving his against his skin. He looked from them once he was sure he was doing it right, over to Sam and his eyes widened slightly, determined.

“And are you- ticklish?”

Sam’s expression wavered and Castiel just about managed to pick up on the slight change in the colour of his cheeks.

“No.” The hunter replied, a little bit too quickly and Castiel soon found his eyes dropping back to his own hand, considering. His lips twitched and he reached forward towards Sam’s abdomen.

His arm was caught in Sam’s grasp before his fingers even scraped the surface.

The hunter raised his eyebrows and for a moment, did nothing but stare down at the angel. Castiel returned the look, almost daringly and Sam quickly tried to push his arm away.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, Dean will be back soon so..”

Castiel’s smile grew, his mouth opening as he sat up straight and reached his other hand up towards Sam instead, paying very little attention to his words.

Sam eyed the hovering hand, then looked directly into the angel’s eyes.

“Don’t….” he warned.

“It’s only fair I return the favour.” Castiel replied, a strange mix of excitement building in his gut at the thought of causing that reaction in Sam. While he had heard him laugh before, it was never as continuous as his own was. He loved the sound, he could only imagine how good it would be to hear it drawn out.

Sam shook his head but Castiel quickly nodded along side it.

“Just try it.”  The challenge was there and Castiel was far from one to back away from a fight. He tightened his lips, glaring up into the hunters eyes, before he lunged his body forward, his hand closing in Sam’s side.  Sam jolted back, his legs moving from underneath him as he tried to slip to the side,off of the bed, pushing Cas back with the hand he still had hold of.

As Castiel fell towards the now empty space, he pulled his arm back, twisting himself around on to his back and pulling, knocking Sam completely off balance and bringing him back onto the bed. He fell towards him, practically on top of him and Castiel quickly rolled onto his side, then on to his front, effectively pinning the stunned Winchester underneath him.

Before Sam knew what was happening, his hands were pinned over his head too and Castiel was sat on his stomach, with what could only be described as the beginnings of  a smirk, working its way onto his face.

The angel leant forward, dipping his head so he could speak directly into Sam’s ear. “You forget, I am still a soldier.”

He pulled back, but did not loosen his hold.

Sam felt a shiver run down his spine and he couldn’t help but gulp at the look he was receiving. His face froze and he had to take a moment to remind himself that this was Cas, not the archangel who had been threatening him in pretty much the same position hours ago.

Castiel picked up on the change instantly, his certainly over the situation wavering as he felt a pang of worry that he had he gone too far, crossed some sort of line. He went to loosen his grip, until he saw that same devilish smile appear beneath him.

“And I’m a hunter.” Sam’s legs wrapped around his waist and Castiel just about managed to glance to them, before he found his own balance shifting and suddenly Sam was out from underneath him. They rolled onto their sides, Sam’s hands breaking free of Castiel’s hold and they quickly came up to push against Castiel’s shoulders.

Castiel frowned at the action, trying to throw his weight forward, to knock Sam back on his back. He heard Sam laugh and instantly tried to grab hold of his wrists again.

His eyes narrowed as Sam evaded it.

Through sheer luck more than anything else, he managed to use his weight to get Sam back on his back, but as quickly as it happened, it reverted, Sam twisting so they ended up rolling to the right. Sam reached up, his hands finding their way to Castiel’s arm pits and the angel just about managed to jolt back before the tickling began again.

“That is cheating.” He declared, but Sam pulled him down, almost managing to pin him. Castiel pushed him and suddenly they were both rolling and a small gasp of surprise left Sam’s lips as the bed disappeared from beneath them.

They landed with a crash on the floor, with Castiel on top of Sam, the blankets following suit.

For a moment they remained perfectly still, then Castiel carefully pushed himself up, using Sam’s chest as support. He looked down into his eyes with stunned worry.

He had not meant for that to happen, he did not realise how close to the edge they had gotten.

His fear was soon put to rest as Sam cracked up, almost double dimples appearing on his face as he opened his mouth. Castiel found himself soon smiling too and he ducked his head. He pushed himself into a sitting position, still on top of the younger man and simply sat, waiting for him to recover.

“You're not injured are you?” He asked once the laughter ceased, wanting to be sure. Sam shook his head, his now wild hair flopping about.

“I think we can call this a draw.” He replied instead, blowing upwards to knock the hair out of his eyes.

Castiel nodded, though slightly begrudgingly. He wasn’t quite ready for it to be over just yet- Which if he thought about it, was perhaps the reason he didn’t even attempt to move.

As Sam laughed again, he suddenly became very aware, very quickly of exactly where Castiel was sitting and his eyes widened, the noise ceasing.

He soon cleared his throat, his face blushing all over again. Castiel tilted his head questioningly but before he could say anything the door to their right opened and they both ever so slowly turned their heads to face it.

As suspected Dean stood there, his arms coming to fold across his chest. He raised an eyebrow as he stared down at them. His expression one of someone who was just completely done.

“Urrr… would you believe me if I said this isn't what it looks like...” Sam said, his face turning crimson, knowing that no amount of denial would convince his brother that what he was walking in on was anywhere near innocent. Especially with the added blanket around Cas’ waist and the ruffled covers on the bed.

Dean shook his head, his eyes falling from one to the other. Castiel simply looked at him blankly, not even close to being embarrassed.

“Hello Dean.”

He made no attempt to move off of Sam and the hunter soon found himself cracking up again. It was too ridiculous not too.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“I need a shower, is it safe to go in there?”

Sam cringed, his eyes squeezing shut as Castiel turned his head, looking at the room with the most serious of expressions.

“The danger does not move past slipping.”  He soon said, his attention darting back to Sam as the body beneath him shook even harder than before. Dean pulled a disgusted face, walking over to where he had left his bag. He snatched it up, making a show of covering his eyes as he headed into the bathroom.

“I’m going to need bleach.”

Castiel looked back down as the door clicked closed and Sam’s body stilled, wondering what on earth he had said to produce such different reactions in the brothers.

They stayed staring at each other for a moment, before Sam found himself clearing his throat. “It might be an idea for you to get of me now…”

Not that he wasn’t perfectly happy with their position but it they stayed like that much longer, they were going to have a whole other problem on their hands and this time, he didn’t think Castiel would be able to miss it.

“Oh, right.” He swung his leg over Sam’s stomach, awkwardly getting back to his feet. He held his hand out, grabbing hold of Sam’s to help him up as well.

The hunter nodded, biting down on his lip as he stood.

Castiel shifted awkwardly as he let go, unsure of how to respond as Sam took a step to his left.. His eyes fell to the blankets on the floor. He had no idea what it was they had been doing but it left his skin itching for Sam’s touch and every part of him was cursing the fact they were interrupted.

“We forgot to dry you clothes!” Sam said and Castiel quickly found his confusion mounting. What?

He turned around.

Sam had seemingly moved across the room without him noticing and was picking up the wet material from the floor. He looked at it blankly then his eyes shifted up to Sam’s.

“Right.” He guessed they were done with that then, what ever that was.

He couldn’t help the small amount of disappointment from flashing across his face.

He sat down on the bed, blinking slowly, trying to process the raging emotions inside of him. They were fighting without the intention of hurting each other? Was that really something human’s enjoyed? The most obvious answer seemed to be yes, since he wanted more of it. If Sam’s laughing was anything to go by, he certainly wasn’t complaining either.

He shifted his attention to the hunter, who was bent over putting socks on. He quickly found he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight and frowned.

This was all very confusing.

Just when one thing finally became clear to him, others decided to pop up in its place.

As Sam pulled a clean top over his head, obviously far more comfortable with doing it in front of the angel then he was before. Castiel got back to his feet, stepping over to reach for Sam’s hand.

The hunter span around in surprise, but smiled as the fingers interlocked with his own. Castiel pulled him forward wiggling his finger twice to indicate for Sam to lean down. He did in amusement, his eyes full of curiosity.  Castiel moved in closer, his lips close to the man’s ear as he whispered.

“Next time, you’ll be the one writhing on the bed.” He stepped back, his expression neutral as he turned to head towards his trench coat. The one item spared from the rain.

If he had looked back, he would have seen Sam’s eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, a thick lump forming in his throat.

\-------

It was over an hour later when they headed out, Castiel having been forced into a pair of Dean’s old jeans. He stayed in the T shirt he had slept in and pulled the trench coat over the top, despite the older Winchester’s rather loud protests that he looked ridiculous. He vowed to find a clothing store but Castiel was having none of it.

Sam hated to admit it, but he zoned out on the conversation rather quickly, his mind to focused on something else. Namely the ten little words the angel had spoken. It would have been so easy for him to just write it off. To convince himself that the angel had no idea of the implications his wording held. He was rather uneducated when it came to double meanings after all. It was the look that made him think otherwise however.

It was so dark and his voice was so low, so full of something he wasn’t used to hearing from the angel. It made his stomach do somersaults.

He shivered at just the thought of what it could mean, forcing himself to look out of the side window. His heart raced and he let out a careful breathe, trying to keep his breathing normal.  

He was pretty sure Dean was shooting him weird, almost knowing looks at this point, but he refused to glance around to check. To give him the satisfaction of knowing what he more than likely suspected.

He closed his eyes, resting his head against the glass, it was cold, exactly what he needed right now.

Images flicked behind his lids and he almost gave into them. Gave into thoughts of  lips crashing against each other, of skin grinding against skin, of  fingers pressing into thighs, of teeth tracing down necks. Of the looks Castiel’s eyes could hold, the growls which could vibrate through him, what it could feel like to have his fingers tracing down him again, only this time going lower, his hands on his ass, pulling them closer. The feel of his breathe running all over his skin.

The taste as his tongue...

Sam’s eyes snapped open again, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat harshly, shifting in his seat. He could feel Dean’s eyes almost glued to the back of his head now and almost turned to remind him he was the driver.

It was only when he opened his mouth, did he realise that the car was actually at a halt, pulled up into a service station. He heard the door click open, then slam close, a sure sign of his brother leaving.

Probably to fill up on Gas.

He turned in his seat, checking which direction he had gone in, he was taken aback to see the signpost, indicating just how far they had travelled without him noticing.

“He asked you twice to do it.”

Sam’s attention shifted to the back seats, where Castiel sat studying him carefully.

“What?” Sam asked, his eyes shifting to watch Dean pull out the petrol cap.

Castiel ignored the question, his head tilting to the side.

“Is something on your mind?” It wasn’t like him to be so out of sorts.

Sam blinked, searching his face for any sign of the expression he held in the motel room. There was none.

‘Yeah’ He felt like saying anyway. ‘You.’

\------------------

“Cas, there's a 24 hour grocery store down the road, why don’t you go pick up some food.” Dean said as soon as they walked into yet another motel room, holding a card out for the angel to take. His eyes did not once leave the back of his brother’s head as he spoke. Sam looked back at him strangely as he placed his bags down on the far bed, torn between protesting Dean using the angel as an errand boy and staying silent out of pure curiosity.  In the end he chose not to say anything, an odd feeling coming over him as they made eye contact. He drew his eyebrows together questioningly, causing the older Winchester to shake his head, in a movement which could barely be considered a movement at all.

Cas looked between them, squinting, before stepping forward cautiously and taking the card.

“Any preferences?” He asked, his eyes eventually settling on just Sam. He half expected him to say something and when he didn’t he found himself looking away, his attention falling instead to the object he now held. He turned it over, inspecting the details on it carefully. It was just a load of numbers, and a name. R, Morgan. Who ever that was.

“No, just make sure to bring back some pie.” Dean replied, barely even blinking as he waved his hand in an almost dismissive motion. The action caused him to receive a look from his brother that he had long ago dubbed as his ‘bitch face’. Castiel nodded, turning around without another word and placing the card into his trench coat pocket as he headed through the door.

If it was something he needed to know, Sam would tell him, otherwise he knew he had no business arguing against his departure.

It wasn’t until they heard footsteps descending the staircase into the car park, did Dean finally break his stare.  He didn’t say anything at first, instead choosing to walk over to the dresser, leaning his weight against it.

“Talk.” He eventually came out with, folding his arms and glancing over to his brother expectantly.

Sam raised an eyebrow, last time he checked he wasn’t a mind reader. “About?”

Dean rolled his eyes, unfolding his arms to rest them behind him instead.

“About?” He repeated, not quite believing he had just asked that. “Your head’s been in the clouds all day. Crowley could have been dancing in front of you and you’d still be staring off into space.” Sam let out a huff of amusement and Dean pulled a face. Okay, perhaps that wasn’t the best example, but it was no less true.  If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he had taken something.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Sam replied with a shrug, looking at Dean oddly. Okay, so he might have been a little zoned out that afternoon, but that didn’t mean there was some sort of problem. Unless of course you considered how he was going to make sure Cas had the opportunity to carry out his threat, a problem.

Dean let out an exasperated noise. "We are in the middle of the apocalypse."

Sam creased his brow, his nose twitching slightly. That really wasn’t something he needed to be reminded of. No amount of cuddling up to an angel was going to make him forget the fact he let Lucifer out of his cage, or guilt he would carry for doing so.

“You think I don’t know that?”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly? I think you forget.” Sam looked completely taken aback by that and Dean sighed, bringing one of his hands up to rub at the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. “Look, I get it, you've fallen hard, but I don't want to see you broken when this ends badly. The three of us, aren’t going to survive this-”

“You dont know that.” Sam interrupted, but Dean held his hand up, effectively cutting him off too. He needed him to let him finish. He needed to get this out,.

“Yes I do, and so do you. This isn’t simply a few demons throwing a fit, its end of the world bad, hell I’ve seen- “ He stopped, drawing in a breath and briefly looking away. He hadn’t told Sam about the croatian virus and he had no intention of changing that now. If he had his way, it would never come to be so there was no point in upsetting him with possibilities. “We’ve seen what happens when people get caught in the crossfire, can you imagine the damage when that crossfire involves the whole world? With us at the centre? No one gets out of this in one piece Sammy. Especially not us.”

Sam frowned, his lips parting slightly as he desperately searched his brother’s eyes for some sign that this was just a worse case scenario he was voicing. That he didn’t truly believe in what he was saying. He swallowed hard when he was just met with an almost vacant, almost accepting stare.

“Dean, don't lose faith now. We’re going to beat this.”

Dean snorted, pushing himself up of the unit into a standing position.

“Yeah. Maybe” He  licked his lips, his voice dramatically lower than before and not even close to sounding convincing. “But at what cost.” Because he sure as hell wasn’t prepared to watch everyone he cared for burn.

“I don’t know, but I do know it won't be our lives.This isn’t how our story ends. We'll find God and…”

“... And what Sam? He will magically make things better? I get why Cas needs to believe that, but you? With all the shit we've been through do you really think he's going to suddenly appear and put the archangels in a timeout?”

It was too ridiculous to even try to picture.

Sam rolled his eyes.“Of course not, but-”

“But nothing, it's up to us to stop this and I don't for one moment think it will be without casualties and I don't believe you do either.” He looked up at him expectantly, just waiting for him to protest. He didn’t. his eyes falling to the floor instead. Dean nodded chewing at his lips. He hated this as much as he did, but their history didn’t change, no matter how much they fought it.

“So, what? You wanted Cas gone, just to tell me we’re going to die?” Sam said with a guarded expression, looking back up while he placed his hands into his jacket pockets.

Dean shook his head,

“ No, I wanted him gone, so I could say, please don’t get lost in a fairy tale ending.” Sam’s eyes narrowed and Dean found himself swallowing hard as he forced himself to continue.  “ Don’t start daydreaming of playing house with an angel, because it wont ever be like that. This ends one way for us, bloody, and if you're the one lucky enough to survive, well I don’t want to leave you broken beyond repair.”

He had lived through Jess, remembered the state his brother was in all too well when he had lost her. The anger he had held, the path he went down. At least he had been around to help with that, to keep him from losing his mind completely. But he doubted he would be this time. If both he and Cas lost their lives to this fight and Sam survived, he didn’t even want to think about what he might do.

Or even who he might say yes to, if there was a promise to bring them back, when his grief was at his highest.

He wanted to believe he would never be that stupid, but the state he was in when he got out of hell, the stories he was told about what Sam tried to do, made him think otherwise.

“Just try and protect yourself, that’s all I ask, this is only going to end in heartbreak, and if you're spending your time dreaming of a future with him, it’s going to be so much worse in the long run.”

Sam looked away again, his mouth opening as he rolled his tongue and shook his head. He blew out his nose in annoyance, before turning back to face his brother.

“Is that your way of telling me to turn into a recluse.”

It was Dean’s turn to shake his head as he turned and sat himself down on the end of the bed. He leant forward resting his arms on top of his knees and looked down at the ground for a moment, before he pulled his neck up to look back at Sam.

“Ofcourse not. And I’m not trying to tell you to stop doing, whatever it is you two are doing.” He sat up straighter again, holding his hands up in plication. He was the last person in the world who would tell Sam to abstain from anything “But for the love of-” He cut himself off abruptly, wincing. He shook his head slightly, before trying again. “Don’t let yourself turn into a love sick puppy, don’t get to the point where you would say yes, just to save him.”

\------------------------

There wasn’t many humans that caught Castiel’s attention, especially now he didn’t have the ability to see their souls. So the angel was taken by surprise when he found himself pausing before entering the store. His eyes trailing after two men who had passed him. Who had caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up on end.

It was the jacket’s, he decided as he watched them walk down the path. They were old, torn and in need of a good wash, though it was probably the odor that hit him more than anything. A mix of gunpowder and dirt, barely there, but something Castiel had become accustomed to smelling after hanging around the Winchesters for so long.

He stepped back out the doorway, watching them head towards their vehicle. His eyes narrowed. One definitely held an old injury which had affected his walk. He was sure if he checked their pockets he would find the tell tale fake ID’s too.

He cranked his neck, watching as they lifted the boot open, putting whatever they had bought from the store inside. The shine of a knife caught his attention in seconds.

Yes, hunters, definitely hunters, he concluded.

He wondered if Sam and Dean knew they were in the area. It was rare for them to work in such close proximity to others.

He didn’t know why, but he took a few steps forward, trying to hear what the men were saying. No matter how hard he strained his ears however he couldn’t pick up on a single word.

“Excuse me?” He turned his attention away from them and to the woman stood in front of him, her eyebrows raised.

“Ummm?” He stared at her for a moment, squinting as she made some sort of eye movement which was clearly meant to tell him what it was she wanted. It wasn’t until she impatiently waved her hand, did he realise he was blocking the door.

He stepped to the side. “My apologies.”

She huffed and he found himself rolling his eyes before turning back to watch the men.

They were in the car now and the engine quickly roared to life.

He let out a breath and turned back to the doors, his hand reaching over to push them back open. He paused however before he took the final step inside, glancing over his shoulder one last time as the car drove past him.

He tried to ignore the way his stomach clenched uneasily at the sight of the passenger, pulling a hat down over his face.

\---------

Passing the bags of food into one hand, Castiel slipped his free one behind his trench coat, pulling the angel blade free from Dean’s belt. He brought it in front of him and gripped it tight as he approached the motel, his eyes locked on the car he had seen earlier.

The sound of gunshots filled the air and he was running within seconds, his face harding.

Human instinct was a strange thing, but he would have to remember to trust it in future.

It had told him something was wrong with those men, he should of listened.

He got to their room, just in time to see the gun going off again and Dean’s body dropping to join Sam’s on the floor.


	25. Chapter 25

Castiel felt his insides run cold. There, just in front of him, lay the bodies of the Winchesters, void of any signs of life.

Sam’s hands were up, in a surrender motion, Dean’s were clenched into fists by his side. They were weaponless, obviously taken by surprise. They probably just thought it was him coming back. Didn’t pay enough attention to the door opening until it was too late.

His eyes fell to Sam chest first and he felt his own tighten considerably as he took in the sight. It held four separate entry wounds and while he was no doctor, he knew each of them would have killed him outright. There was no need for a second shot, let alone a fourth.

The men must really have wanted him dead.

He bit down, his jaw locking, as he thought about Sam staring down the barrel of a gun, knowing there was nothing he could do to defend himself and what it was he must have felt as each one pierced through his skin.

Blood soaked through his shirt and a small puddle was forming around him. Castiel found himself watching the trail carefully, unable to bring himself to react, his body almost going numb as he tried to process everything.

That was Sam’s blood in front of him and there was too much of it, far too much of it.

He hadn't stood a chance.

Slowly, he managed to glance towards Dean too, trying to block out the parade of thoughts that were entering his mind. He had just one wound, directly in the centre of his chest and a completely different pattern of blood surrounded him.

There was more splatter for starters, the consequence of a bullet going straight through, rather than settling itself inside its victim.

He doubted the shot would have been fatal if it had not caught an artery.

He looked between the bodies, slowly coming to realise their target had to have been Sam. Dean was simply collateral damage. Knowing him it was the price for trying to protect his brother .

He felt his shock giving way, as anger started to build in its place.

Neither of them should have been lying there.

Neither of them deserved that fate.

“Move.” A gun was suddenly pressed into his chest with enough force to leave a mark.  Castiel expression darkened considerably as he slowly switched his attention to the hunters, his initial shock evaporating completely as he clenched his fists. “What are you deaf? I said move! Or you will end up joinin’ ‘em.”

Castiel moved his head very slightly to the side, taking in every inch of the man that spoke. The man responsible for ending his friends’ lives. He was convincing, he had to give him that, his posture, like the other man, was tall and square, holding the stance any good soldier should. His hands gave him away though. There was a slight tremble to them, his fingers twitching on the trigger, showing he wasn’t anywhere near as confident as he was trying to portray.

“Shoot ‘im.” The other one said and Castiel switched his attention over to him. So he was the one in charge then. “Roy, shoot ‘im.”

He looked back to the one with the stubble again, his eyes trailing downwards, watching the man’s throat move as he swallowed nervously.

He wasn’t going to do it.

He perhaps hadn’t wanted to be there at all.

The gun was jolted against his chest for a second time, almost as if its holder suspected what the angel was thinking and Castiel’s eyes dropped down to it, his lips pressing together into a thin line.

He had almost thought about sparing him.

“Move.” Roy repeated, his finger gripping around the trigger with alot more force than before, preparing himself to take what could be the necessary shot to secure their freedom.

Castiel however didn’t even flinch, his hand tightening its grip on his angel blade. He could practically feel his insides heating up, the rage twisting through his veins the more he thought about what they had done. The suffering they would be responsible for.

They, of all people, were in no position to be making demands.

“You may wish to point that thing elsewhere.” He said in a low voice, not bothering to look back up and the air practically crackled around him as he spoke. The men exchanged brief glances, something about his stoic features making them less certain than they were before. Walt shook his head, brushing the feeling of and they both turned back to face him, determination outweighing their bodies desires to curl away. He was nothing, a nobody in the hunting world, they had no reason to fear.

Roy pressed the gun into his chest for a third time and Castiel’s eyes shot up to meet his and suddenly the man wasn’t so certain of that statement anymore.

Castiel let out a small huff, his lips curling upwards slightly as if he could not quite believe he had the audacity to continue to threaten him. He shook his head, the expression disappearing as quickly as it appeared but it was there long enough to cause the hunters’ to falter. There was something off about him, something that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up on end.

He was human, yet he wasn’t.

Before either of the men could react, Castiel gripped hold of the gun, pushing it up and away from him. Roy pressed the trigger, but the angel had already anticipated this, moving his head to the side and out of the bullet’s path. The ceiling above them splintered, the bang echoing throughout the room.  Castiel twisted the barrel around as dust fell on them and the man hissed, his arm following suit as his finger got caught in the trigger guard.

“Walt!”

The second man’s gun was up and pointing towards him in seconds, stepping forward in his friend's defense. Castiel only used that to his advantage as he turned and kicked out, catching him in the stomach and knocking him clear to the floor.

As Roy struggled to get his gun back, Castiel pulled the barrel towards himself, catching the man off balance. He stumbled forward slightly and Castiel span the angel blade in his hand, stepping into his personal space, the point held out between them.

Roy gasped as it plunged into his stomach, falling to his knees. Castiel barely looked at him as he pulled the blade free and in one swift motion, he discarded the gun and shoved his palm into the base of his nose.If there had been time, the angel was sure he would have enjoyed the sound of the bones cracking on impact, the force jaring them into his brain.

“‘The hell?” Walt yelled out as he tried to raise his gun again, watching in dismay as his friend’s body fell limply to the floor.

Castiel’s attention immediately reverted back to him, his nose creasing up, his upper lip curling as he took a step forward. Walt pulled the trigger, but his face dropped in horror as nothing came out.

He swallowed hard,  his attention travelling to the blade held above him as he desperately tried to make the thing work. He barely had time to register what was happening before Castiel’s hand reached around to the back of his neck, almost grasping at it. The blade quickly followed suit, going in one side, and coming out the other.

“Believe me.” The angel replied as he hovered over the man, holding his head until he felt all traces of life leaving him. “That’s exactly where you're going.”

Blood spurted onto his trouser leg and he looked down at it in disgust, pushing the man away from him. The body landed face down, virtually on top of his companion’s.

Castiel stared at them for a minute, his breathing heavy. Reluctantly he closed his eyes, attempting to draw in a calming breath.  He stayed like that, trying to regain control of himself, knowing he could not allow his mind back into the room until he did. He was no use to the brothers in that state.

When he felt settled enough,  his attention immediately went south, taking in the blood that covered the one thing that still connected him to heaven. He pulled a second face and his eyes travelled back to the hunters. He hunched over, reaching for one of their shirts, wiping his blade on the cleanest part he could find.

Once he was sure all traces of their substance was gone, he slipped the weapon back into the security of his belt, allowing his trench coat to fall over the top, hiding it from view.

He didn’t spare the men a second glance as his attention diverted back towards the brothers, his expression immediately losing its hardness and becoming more pained.

He swallowed uneasily as he stepped closer, until he awkwardly fell to his knees between them. An action he had not really participated in before. His hand reached automatically to feel for a pulse on Sam first, then Dean, though he already knew he would not find one on either.

He felt a lump form in his throat as his fingers refused to pick up on the slightest beat.

He let out a slow breath and ducked his head.

If only he had headed back when he first saw the men. If he had listened to the voice telling him something was wrong. Followed the instinct humans talked so much about. Of course there was a chance the outcome would have still been the same, but there was equal chance it would have been entirely different.

He lifted his hand to Sam’s head, running it through his now matted hair. His skin was still so warm, but his eyes were wide and lifeless. That, Castiel decided, made it so much harder. There wasn’t even a trace of the laughter they had held earlier.

There was no spark, no glint, no awareness or joy. Everything which made Sam, Sam, was gone.

He moved his shaking fingers to his lids, gently pressing them closed. He couldn’t keep looking at that. It was too difficult. Too painful. He swallowed again, his fingers trailing down further, towards the wounds.

Blood soon covered his hand and he had had to grasp it into a fist to try and stop the tremors, which only seemed to become worse the more that it covered them.

He knew he couldn’t heal anymore, that unlike last time, he could not bring him back, still he flattened his hand and tried... and tried and tried, pushing as much of his energy into his palm as he could.

It made no difference, not that he expected it to and he soon sank back onto his heels. Defeated.

There was nothing he could do to help either of them now.

No way to protect them.

It was out of his control.

They were gone until the archangels deemed it time for them to come back.

Still, knowing that they would return did not make the here and now any easier, didn’t stop his breathing from becoming harder to regulate. It could be hours, it could be days, it could be years if they decided to keep them in heaven, torturing them until they said yes.

If that was the case, the people he knew were truly gone.

He dropped his shoulders.

Sam was right, angels were nothing like the fairy tales people believed in. Protectors, the good guys. What a joke. Human’s were foolish to believe those things were something to pray too. That they were anything but the soldiers of heaven that the old testament described.

He looked up, willing someone, any one of his brothers or sisters to hear him all the same.

‘Please’ He found himself begging. _Please one of you help them._

It was only after minutes of silence ticked by, did he start to question when he had stopped seeing himself as one of them. Or when he had started thinking of them as anything but what he knew them to be. Perhaps it was Jimmy’s early beliefs seeping through, as his soul realised there was no grace keeping it at bay?

He would have stayed on the floor indefinitely, with his voice reaching no one, if footsteps did not gather his attention.

“What the?”  Someone spoke.

Castiel spun around, his eyes darting to the doorway where the source of the noise seemed to be.

Stood frozen in the entrance was a man in his early fifties. He remembered briefly seeing him on the reception desk earlier when Dean had booked them in. His eyes were wide as they trailed over the four dead bodies and the red that stained his walls. His mouth dropped open in horror and he took a few steps back, his eyes widening as they landed on Castiel, crouched in the middle of it all, covered in a mixture of the four’s blood.

The angel shifted.

Well this wasn’t good.

“You have no reason to fear, two of them will be revived.” He tried to reassure. It was perhaps the wrong thing to say however as the man’s face drained of colour completely and he backed away until he hit into the railings behind him. Castiel cursed as he got to his feet, he should have known someone would come to investigate the gunshots, it was unforgivable that he had not thought about this sooner.

He should have at the very least have locked the door. It would have been the first thing Sam suggested.

He took a step forward, intending to try and come up with some sort of explanation, but it only caused the man to let out a pitiful shriek. Before Castiel could say anything else, he darted off to the right, back down the stairs to the car park.

Castiel stepped to the doorway, the strangest feeling of dread erupting in his stomach.

“Police… I...I...I need the police! Now!” He heard amongst the footfalls.

His eyes quickly fell closed.

_Great. Just great._

He wondered just how well morticians took to  the bodies they were working on suddenly coming back to life...

\-------

He was almost certain the man was still around somewhere, watching him, reporting back, thankfully if the motel was full, the other guests had decided not to interrupt the guy in a trench coat, who was dragging two dead giants into the back of a car. He had to remind himself to convince the Winchesters to lose some damn weight when this was all over.

His vessel was strong, but that was next to useless when compared to his friends’ sizes, especially Sam’s. As an angel, he never felt the younger Winchester was particularly tall, even if he did tower over most humans. Now though he was starting to understand just how big he was and when you added in the muscle density, it was a sheer miracle he was able to move his body at all, let alone lift it into a vehicle.

Grabbing hold of Sam’s arms once again, Castiel tried not to think about what he was doing and who he was currently climbing all over. If climbing was even the word to describe his hunched up form shuffling backwards along Dean’s chest.

Pulling with all his strength, he heaved Sam into the Impala, placing him on top of his brother. It was no easy task and the body soon rolled slightly to the side, falling partially into the footwell. Castiel looked at it for a minute, determined not to think of it as anything but a vessel, before he backed off and kicked the right hand door out a little wider so he could get out.

It wasn’t Sam, Sam wasn’t there, he could not be uncomfortable or be in any sort of pain from staying like that. He needed to get the bodies to safety, that had to be his priority over everything else.

It wasn’t Sam, it wasn’t Dean, just empty meat suits waiting for their return.

He climbed out of the vehicle with that thought, just about managing to stop himself from falling onto his ass. He quickly closed the door as he recovered, before rushing back around to maneuver Sam’s legs inside.

It was hardly dignified but he didn’t have time to try and sit one of the brothers up front. He had to get them away, before he had to work out how to break out of a prison cell in time to stop speculation of a zombie uprising.

Panicked human’s was all they needed on top of the apocalypse.

He closed the door, resting his head against the cool metal for a second as he tried to get his breathe back. His arms and back now ached in ways he didn’t know were possible. He applauded mankind more and more as each challenge passed for putting up with their feeble bodies for so long. He didn’t know how they did it. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the feeling off long enough to allow him to do what needed to be done.

He had failed the Winchesters in life, he could not fail them in death too.

He pushed himself back up and tried his hardest to ignore the blood he was now covered in. His hands shook every time he took in the sight and realised it was Sam and Dean’s sticking to his skin. The horrible smell of rusting metal was hitting him the closer his hands got to his face. It made him want to vomit, it smelt so much worse than what it did when he had held his grace.

He glanced into the window and tried to burry the bile that rose up his throat.

It wasn’t them. Their souls weren’t there.

He forced himself to look away. Now was not the time to give in to bodily reactions.There was no reason for him to experience what he had learnt were the symptoms of grief.

If anyone could defy the odds, it was them.

He could hear sirens now he realised and quickly worked his way around to the front of the car, getting into the driver’s seat. He pulled the key he had taken out of Dean’s pocket out of his own and placed it in the slot he’d seen him use on many occasions.

They had to leave.

Quickly.

How hard could driving be?

Twisting the metal, he was relieved when the engine roared to life. His relief didn’t last long however as the car jumped forward a few inches and then stopped altogether, the vibrations dying back down in an instant.

He frowned, looking at the red lights that appeared on the dashboard in confusion.

What had he done wrong?

He tried to turn the key again and his eyes narrowed when it refused to move.

“Damn it!” He growled, hitting the steering wheel in frustration with the palms of his hands.

Why had the Winchesters never shown him how to do this? Did they not think it would be of use some day?

He closed his eyes, his breathing escalating again out of a matter of urgency. He knew it was probably a bad idea. That  he was scratching at doors which were better left undisturbed. Right now he didn’t have a choice however and he desperately searched the memories of the vessel he had taken over.If there were consequences he would have to deal with them later.

He could only hope Jimmy actually knew how to drive.

He could see the police car now screeching to a halt behind him. From that position, they could probably see the trail of blood which lead down the steps, to Dean’s car, too. He glanced down at the pedals, his mind drawing a blank.

If he had his wings this would have been so much easier.

“This is the state police, get out of your vehicle and put your hands where we can see them.”

Castiel glanced over his shoulder, his forehead creasing, they seemed to be using some sort of speaker system as the words echoed around him. He supposed to some, it would have been quite daunting.

He closed his eyes again, trying to focus, his grip around the steering wheel tightening. Jimmy drove Claire and Amelia to church every Sunday, he had to know how to do this.

He had driving lessons when he was seventeen, took longer than most people to learn. He’d hated the instructor, wished she’d get hit by a lorry, then prayed for forgiveness over his sinful thoughts.

He had heard one of them once. It had amused him.

He knew he always used to stall the car to, would forget that it needed to be taken out of gear to start...

Castiel’s eyes snapped open and his hand automatically travelled to gear stick, pulling it into neutral. The knowledge on how to do everything hitting him at once.

He started the car again as a second police vehicle pulled up beside him, the sirens almost deafening. He pushed the clutch in, put his foot on the gas and released the handbrake. The car screeched forward. There was a curb in front of him, but it was his only way out and he quickly rolled over it. Wincing as the car juddered side to side. It was probably a good thing Dean wasn’t aware of any of this.

He made it down onto the road, the police cars quickly following suit. The journey was unsteady at first but he soon managed to get a hold of the gear changes and sped up.

As he turned the wheel, just in time to avoid a possible collision into a wall, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what a highly devoted christian man knew about car chases.

\-------

It turned out, a lot, Jimmy apparently had a very keen interest in racing programmes growing up. Something that didn’t change as he hit adulthood. So while there were a few near misses, Castiel managed to lose his followers. Mainly due to the fact he turned the wheel a bit too much without slowing down first and sent the car hurtling into some woods.

The police didn’t follow, much to the angels relief. Instead driving straight past where he had descended. Unfortunately Jimmy’s knowledge didn’t cover how to drive out of a ditch so he was stuck down there.

Still it was better than the alternative.

He placed Sam and Dean beside each other on the ground, making sure they were positioned in a way which would be comfortable for them when they woke. Hopefully with very little questions about how they got there.

Perhaps he could just blame the archangels?

He glanced back to the car when he was finished settling them, frowning as he took in the colour of it. At least there didn't appear to be any structural damage on the upside.

Looking away, he squeezed himself in between the brothers, sitting down cautiously facing them. His hands finding their way back to both of their necks.

Still no pulses.

He hoped more than anything that, that was a sign they were running rings around heaven and not that they were held up somewhere with their intestines being ripped out. Personal experience had shown him that that was Michael's favorite method of torture when it came to getting someone to ‘toe the line’.

The bodies were cold now, drained of their normal colour. In a few hours rigamortis would start setting in. Castiel sat back on his heels, his shoulders slumping as he forced his hands to move away from them. He looked up at the sky, willing the archangel to hurry up. To just forget about them saying yes and return them to earth. He had to, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

He took hold of Sam’s closest hand in his, running his thumb along the top and pulling it into his lap

What did they ever do to deserve this? Their souls were filled with good intentions, they were determined to help people the best way they knew. Sure they made mistakes, but they spent the rest of their time trying to rectify them, surely that counted for something in more than just Castiel’s book.  Instead of being thanked, they were murdered by one of their own. An action deemed inexcusable in his realm. He didn’t understand why that did not transpire to mankind too.

He looked up, watching as the clouds moved above them.

They would be fine, he had to remind himself.

If anyone could navigate heaven it was them and he would sit, for however long it took, protecting their bodies so there was something for them to return too.

\---------

Over an hour past and Castiel still sat, just holding Sam’s hand.

He was getting cold now, shivers running up his spine, while Sam’s hand grew less and less like the one he was so used to holding. He could hear wolves howling in the distance. Was starting to be able to see his breathe every time he breathed out.

Still he refused to move, to take shelter in the car and just leave them out there alone.

He seemed to be finding it harder and harder to swallow, a lump permanently attached to the back of his throat, growing the more he looked at them. He had curled Sam’s fingers around his hand, but now he wished he hadn’t, if felt wrong, out of place, no where near to being like the touch he had come to enjoy.

As an angel he had never experienced the desire to have physical contact with anyone, but the more he got to know Sam, the more that had changed. Now just the thought of never experiencing that again made his chest feel like it was being crushed by some invisible force.

He didn’t understand it, and he certainly didn’t like it.

\-----------

When the last of the daylight vanished, he got up and pulled out some clothing from the Impala. Carefully he separated it out, Sam’s items blanketed around Sam, Dean’s blanketed around Dean. He had every faith that they would wake up soon and after experiencing what being cold felt like, he wanted to ensure they stayed as warm as possible.

A smell was starting to develop, faint, but he knew it would only get stronger as the body tissues continued to break down.. Emptying the third bag, Castiel found a hoodie that seemed to once belong to Sam. A single glance told him it would be too small for him now. It had Stanford writing across the front. He supposed he kept it for the memory rather than the desire to wear it again.

He glanced down to his trench coat and T-shirt, still covered in the red substance and reluctantly pulled them of. He did not want the first thing the Winchesters saw, to be him covered in their blood. They did not need reminding of what had happened to them. That was the only reason he was changing, he told himself, as he discarded the clothes to his side. It had nothing to do with how uncomfortable they were making him. It was hardly the first time he was covered in the liquid after all.

He pulled on Sam’s jumper, savouring the small amount of warmth it brought him. It seemed to be thicker than the layers he was previously wearing. He pulled the hood up, burying his nose in the material. If he closed his eyes, he could easily pretend it was Sam wrapped around him.  He needed that. Needed to believe he was just sleeping beside him. That he wasn’t somewhere he could never reach again.

He pulled the snacks out of the bag he brought, trying to ignore the way bile rose up his throat at the sight of his stained skin. He didn’t think any of the methods of cleanliness that Sam had taught him, would ever work to get them completely clear again. It would forever be the only thing he saw when he looked at them.

He pulled out the pie first, placing it by Dean, then reached inside for the not so fresh, salad sandwich for Sam. He doubted the archangels would be kind enough to return them with a full stomach.

After some debate with himself, he pulled out a simple snack bar and slowly took a small bite. He wasn’t very hungry, but he hadn't eaten all day and Sam would only scold him if he were to find that out.

When he was done with it, he took Sam’s hand back into his again. A feeling of sadness washing through him.

“Come back to me.”

_Hurry up and come back to me._

\------

The more time that passed, the more Castiel found his worry deepening. What if they were never revived? Sure it would solve the problem of Micheal and Lucifer. After all they couldn’t fight for ownership of the earth without the only vessels that could contain them ... but was the cost worth the prize?

Could he really deal with never seeing them again?

And he wouldn’t he realised, he wouldn’t ever see Sam’s smile again, hear his laugh, feel the warmth his body brought. He wouldn’t see those dimples even one last time, or be able to watch the strange things he did with his tongue without even realising. He wouldn’t be able to listen to him as he tried to get his breath back after a run, or smell the sweat that accumulated with it.

He wouldn’t have Dean telling him when he fucked up, or have him offer up much needed advice.

He did not have a soul. He would live his life for however long it lasted as a human and then… that would be it.

He’d be gone. They’d be in their heavens.

Forever apart.

He bit down on his lip, his body leaning dejectedly forward, his head dropping as this intense sadness hit him.

He would never meet anyone like the Winchester’s again. There was no one who would ever accept him like they did. Who would take the time to teach him human life.Who could ever make him want to protect them so fiercely.

His chest felt heavy, his heart felt empty.

The voices of the angels had always been in his head. When they had stopped, he had the Winchesters to fill the gap. Without them, for the first time, everything was silent.

And he was so completely alone.

\--------------

“Dean, I’ll eat your pie.” He threatened, hovering over the man’s face, reaching for the treat. If that wasn’t reason enough to get his arse back down to earth he didn’t know what was. “I mean it.”

The hand that was held in his was frozen now, stiff as the oak trees that surrounded them. Castiel still refused to loosen his hold. He couldn’t, he would sit there until his body was nothing but bone if that's what it took.

He sat back up straight and forced himself to drink something. He needed to stay conscious and he wasn’t sure that would be possible if he was to get anymore dehydrated.

“I’ll smite your car.” He tried again, after he polished off the bottle, pausing when he realised what he said. “Even though I can’t smite anymore.” He corrected, his eyes traveling over to the Impala. “Perhaps I will let the wolves in it.” He glanced back to his left, almost expecting Dean’s eyes to snap open and a string of threats to follow.

He had told him the rules. No dogs in the car and no taking a… joint(?) from a Don… whatever that meant. The threat of slobber and teeth and the smell of canines weaving its way into his leather seats, should have been enough to revive him on their own anyway, without that understanding.

He waited expectantly, yet still, the body didn’t even twitch.

He sighed, giving up and turned his attention to Sam.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, he didn’t want to threaten him with anything, he just wanted him there with him. It was getting harder and harder to fight of the emotions, to keep hold of hope. Where were they? What was happening up there to keep them away from him for so long. If this was Michael's way of teaching him a lesson, then he got it, lesson learnt but he needed them back now.

He needed his friends. As frightening of a concept as that was.

He had not given up his grace, his family, everything he was, too loose the brothers now.

The wolves were still howling and he was starting to get desperately afraid that he would have to start fighting them off.

He shifted forward, reaching Sam’s neck to check for his pulse.

His fingers dropped to the ground dejectedly seconds later and he found himself looking up at the stars again. The lump hurt now, made his face sting as it bunched up and he had to press his lips close to stop it escaping.

He didn’t know what was happening, but he did know he did not want to be human, if this man wasn’t there to share his life with.

He didn’t even want to be.

\------------

The sun was starting to raise and still there was no sign. It might have been warmer, but Castiel’s body still trembled. The cold of the night having set into his bones. He held onto his blood covered angel blade for dear life, hoping now the animals would leave them alone.

To his left were two dead wolves and he had a horrible feeling more would just keep on coming if the smell got any stronger.

Though perhaps the smell of their dead friends would keep them away.

Castiel was getting some what used to the smell of death. Though as the hours past, his stomach started churning more and more.

He was feeling the hunger now and reluctantly reached for Sam’s meal. He would only eat half he decided, that way, Sam would still get some and Dean couldn't complain about his lack of pie.

He was getting tired, really tired and for the first time he could truly appreciate how much of a struggle not sleeping must have been for Sam. It made his body heavy, his emotions flip and eyes sting.It was not a nice feeling or something he ever wanted to be used to.

Still, he wouldn’t let himself drift of. It wasn’t safe. Anyone could find them if he let his guard down.

He could barely stand feeling their skin for life now, he’d forgotten what it felt like for them to be warm. They’d lost their colour, the paleness turning into something else. There was other liquids dripping out there ears, out their noses, even their eyes.

Each time he noticed it, Castiel wiped it away. His hand shaking a little bit more with every attempt. He was starting to find he had to look away from them as he did it, the sight stirring something painful inside of him.

As Sam’s watch showed another hour had passed, he reached to their necks again, hoping this time he would begin to feel something.

Once again, he was met with nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides* I'm sorry, i had to leave it there :') It was getting to long


	26. Chapter 26

When people think of death, whether it’s brought on by a heart attack or getting shot in the chest, the general consensus seems to be that it will hurt. And while there is no denying the truth in that,  Sam soon discovered it was nothing compared to getting your soul shoved back into an already decaying body. Whether it was unavoidable or just the angel’s being dicks, he wasn’t sure, but either way it felt like he had just gone swimming though a volcano.

He felt every part of him tremble and burn from the second he hit the ground. For a moment, he could see nothing, could hear nothing but his own soul crying out; he supposed that was why people who were brought back by supernatural means never kept their sanity. They just weren’t built to take a return trip.

For a moment, he wondered if he would spend the rest of his life as paralyzed mess. Then slowly, the pain started to subside and he was able to open his eyes again.  He squinted, sucking in a giant breathe, trying to blink everything into focus. He threw an arm up to block out the sunlight, panting for a moment as his body tried to readjust. Despite the clear sky, the air was brisk,  a few degrees lower and he would have been able to see his own breaths.

“Dean?” He choked out, not quite ready to sit back up. He could feel the soil underneath him, twigs poking into his side- that was enough to tell him they weren’t in the motel room anymore. He lowered his arm a fraction when he heard no response and slowly glanced around. “Dean?” He tried again, swallowing hard.

He frowned when he realised just how many trees surrounded him. He was sure the woodlands had been a fair distance from the town they had resided in. He went to sit up, to try and get a better idea of  exactly where he was but paused when he realised his body felt weighed down and that despite the clear autumn temperature, he wasn’t cold.

He glanced down to his chest, his confusion growing when he saw what was probably his entire wardrobe wrapped around him. Carefully, he reached down to push the makeshift blankets away, wanting nothing more than to look at himself. He could still feel those bullets piercing through his skin, the pain of it lingering in his chest. He expected to see blood, to see the holes they had left in his shirt, even so, he wasn’t quite prepared for the sight that greeted him.

His breathe caught in his throat and slowly, with a shaking hand, he pushed his fingers underneath the torn fabric, feeling for wounds, or scars, or any signs of the bullets still being there.

To his great surprise, there were none.

He breathed out slowly, trying to calm his ever quickening pulse. He was alive, that was the most important thing. Alive in a fully, unrotten, uninjured body.

He went to move his other hand, to use them both to help himself sit up, but paused when he finally registered something was clasped in it. Something he was becoming rather used to holding.

“Cas?” He bolted upright, his eyes desperately traveling the length of the body that lay parallel to his own, assessing. The angel’s head was pressed into the dirt. His trousers were stained with blood. His hands looked like they belonged in an evidence bag.

Despite his limbs protests, he got to his knees, throwing the clothes to the side. He reached forward, running his hand carefully down the angel’s cheek, trying to coax him awake. Of course it was Cas, who else would take care of him in such a way? He had to force the bile back down his throat as he thought about him sleeping, holding his lifeless hand. He had made a promise he would not die on him again. It seemed he could barely hold it for over a week.

He turned Cas’ palm over in his own, surveying the blood, making sure not a single drop of it was fresh. He let out a sigh of relief when he realised it wasn’t, that his friend was completely unharmed.

The sound of a stick snapping caused Sam to jolt into hunter mode, and he found himself straightening up, searching for the reason behind it. If Cas hadn’t taken it, he should still have had his knife in his pocket. He moved carefully to reach for it, his nostrils twitching as they finally picked up on the smell of death which surrounded them. He squared his shoulders, ready to break his hand free from Cas’, to fight if necessary. He tensed his body, gripped at the handle and-  

“SonOfA”

Sam blinked, his hand abandoning its task as he strained his neck to try and look down what appeared to be a ditch.

“Dean?” He heard a grumble in response and leant forward more. “Why didn’t you answer me before?” His eyes widened as they landed on the Impala, covered in mud and dust and god only knows what else.

Well, that probably explained that one at least.

Dean seemed to ignore the question as he walked around the car, his hands desperately trying to brush off what she was covered in. Sam flinched as he caught sight of the blood that stained the back of his shirt. Despite knowing he was okay, it was not an easy thing to see.

“I’m going to twist that angel blade so far up your jackass boyfriend’s -” Dean shouted out, but cut himself off as something caught his eye. Sam could only watch as his brother slammed his hands on either side of one of the back doors, peering in through its window. While he couldn’t see the damage for himself, he knew from the string of slurs that followed, that it wasn’t something a bit of soap and water could cure.

He turned his attention back to Cas, beginning to doubt the man was simply sleeping. They're voices should have surely awoken him by now if he was. He ran his fingers through his matted hair, frowning slightly when he realized their blood had gotten there too. Though how that was possible, he didn't know.

“Damn it.” Dean suddenly hissed and Sam quickly looked back to him as he heard the tell tale signs of his brother sucking the end of a finger.

“You alright?” He asked, unsure of who he should be more concerned for.

"Just fine." Dean replied tightly, pulling the thorns away from the door handle. What ever Cas had driven through, had done a brilliant job of booby trapping the car.

“You sure?” Sam pressed on, with a slight edge to his tone. He had seen his brother’s face as they walked through their memories. Had seen a look in his eye he didn’t even want to acknowledge as Joshua told him he was losing faith.

“What do you care?” Dean questioned, refusing to turn around to look at him. His voice was low, resided and Sam found himself wishing he could do anything to change what he had seen up there. To change what Joshua had told them. He could handle Dean when he was angry, when he seethed with rage and lashed out to disguise his hurt. He’d been dealing with that his whole life. It meant he cared in a weird way, that he was still fighting. The closed of desperation however, scared the living shit out of him. He hated to admit it, but it made him worry about what the answer would be if Michael was to come to them now.

He wanted nothing more than to keep talking, to try and get his brother to open up, but he knew better than to try. Dean would only shoot any further attempts at conversation down. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t even sure what he would say.  How was he meant to reassure someone that everything would be alright when he didn’t even know that himself. God was who they had all pinned their last hopes on, to know they couldn’t rely on him now was terrifying.

He shook his head, brushing the thoughts of. Now wasn’t the time to focus on that. He glanced to Dean, torn between concentrating on him or Cas. In the end he turned his attention to the angel, Dean was struggling, but he wasn’t unconscious.

“Cas, can you hear me?” He asked, trying to block out all other thoughts. He reached up, running his thumb underneath the angel’s eyelashes, his fingers cupping the side of his face.“Cas?”

He needed to wake him, needed to see what kind of condition he was in. He couldn’t help the world right now, but he could at very least help him.

\-------

_“Cas?”_

_“Cas? Can you hear me?”_

The angel’s face twitched. A Voice? He could hear a voice?

And it sounded like Sam?

He tried to concentrate, to push his way through the haze he was almost stuck in. Wanting nothing more than to get back to the man he cared so much for. He tried to move but could not work out where his legs were. He tried to look around him, but all he was greeted with was darkness.

‘Sam?’ He tried to shout but his vocal cords would not cooperate.

Did he even still have them?

He sank back into himself, his heart deflating as he realized he could no longer hear anything.

Perhaps it was all just his imagination. Perhaps he had never heard him in the first place.

He almost felt himself give in to the cloud he was surrounded by when suddenly he felt something. Fingers tracing across his skin, down the side of his neck. Soft, warm touches. He had almost forgotten what they felt like.

He scrunched his nose up, trying to force himself back into consciousness. Back into his vessel.

Someone was there with him and there was only one human his body yearned for. One human, who's touches felt like the warmth of a thousands suns on his skin.

He felt his eyelids flicker allowing a small amount of daylight in. He still couldn’t see him, couldn’t make out anything but colours. Was he still there? Or was it Lucifer taking revenge for him helping to keep Sam anchored for so long.

He wouldn’t put it past him.

He heard movement beside him, felt the movement beside him, someone shifting, a body looming over him.

“Sam?” His voice was rough, desperate, barely able to make a sound. He felt drained, like he had been cut off from his grace all over again. He almost wished the nothingness would come back, would replace the force he was being hit with. He groaned, desperately trying to work out what was going on.

Why he suddenly felt this way.

“Hey.” Sam said gently, his hand falling to his shoulder, steadying him, almost like he knew Cas was having a problem gripping hold of reality.

Castiel turned his head, freezing as his eyes landed on the younger Winchester. It took a moment, for his body to come into complete focus, but as soon as it did, a half smile crept onto the angel's face. Without thinking he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His arms clumsily being thrown forwards.

Sam leant towards him, meeting him halfway and the angel’s  head came to rest in the croak of Sam’s neck within seconds. The little energy he had, depleted. He breathed in deeply, wanting nothing more than to fill his lungs with something other than the smell of rotting flesh. He needed to reprint Sam’s scent back into his brain. Needed to be 100 percent sure it was really him.

He smiled as Sam’s hold on him tightened,  not questioning what he needed.

Dean finally looked up to them, his face quickly coming to match Sam’s look of concern.

“How much time passed?” Sam asked carefully, trying to access the situation, but Castiel just shook his head. He didn’t know and he didn’t want to know. He opened his eyes briefly, only to see the empty pie wrapper on the floor just inches away from them. He squeezed them closed them again, rubbing his nose into the collar of Sam’s shirt.

It was a reminder, a cold hard, unwanted reminder.

Sam shot his brother a worried look as he clung on to the angel, patting his back carefully.

Dean shrugged and he watched as Sam’s hand slowly glided as nonchalantly as he could manage to Cas’ forehead, resting against it for a moment. Sam bit his lip, shaking his head at Dean as the temperature hit him. He glanced back down to the angel, his face conveying his worry.

“Fever?” Dean asked, his voice still tight, yet less hostile than it was before. He turned his back to them when Sam placed a kiss to the angel’s forehead, pulling a face. He had crouched down to inspect the wheel arches of his car before Sam answered.

“Yeah. I think he’s dehydrated too.” Gently Sam placed his hand to Castiel’s upper arm and pulled him away a fraction, encouraging him to look up at him. Confused eyes met his and Sam tried his hardest not to wince as he saw the almost red bags which hung underneath them. “We need to get out of here.”

“Tell me something I don't know.” Dean replied, standing up and pulling the drivers door open, his hand automatically reaching to turn the keys. He let out a sigh of relief when the engine started up on the first try- at least that was one less thing to worry about. “Gunna need Bobby’s towtruck first though. Bang up job you did here Cas.”

“Dean…” Sam warned.

Castiel turned,  just enough so he could look at the man.

“I didn’t have a choice but to move you.” He explained, blinking slowly as Dean seemed to become a hazy figure that separated into two blurry images.  He squinted, trying to focus his eyes, though that didn’t seem to help much as the world around him seemed to warp.

“You could have put a blanket down first-”

His head seemed to be becoming heavier and for a second he feared the weight of it would snap his neck. It rolled backwards, hitting into Sam’s arm. He exhaled hard, keeping it there as he fought against the confusion.

What was happening to him?

He didn’t understand it.

Everything was causing him pain. Light, sound, the movement of limbs. It was all too much.

He was sure Dean was still talking but the words didn’t seem to be reaching his ears. He could just about see the man’s lips moving, an odd word popping out here and there, but nothing that made any sense to him.

He closed his eyes as black specks started dancing in his vision.

“-Don’t take this out on him.”

That came from Sam, he was sure of it. He opened his eyes again, but couldn’t bring himself to look up. He could tell from his tone though that he was getting irritated. One glance towards Dean, told him the feeling was mutual. He was tense, annoyed.

“What ‘appened?” He asked, interrupting whatever it was that was going on between them. Sam’s eyes fell back down to him and silence soon followed. Castiel tried not to think about how that made his gut twist. He had meant to say more, but found his body just didn’t have the strength to do it.

Staying conscious was hard enough.

Sam’s hand was suddenly back on his neck, rubbing at the muscles just behind his ears. Cas almost groaned as the tightness there lessened and he found himself resting fully against the hunter. He didn’t care what the other angels thought, this man was a truly magnificent creature.

“You break it to him.” Dean eventually said, looking away from them as quickly as he could, his mouth set. Castiel frowned and despite the feeling in his head, he turned to Sam questionably.  

The hunter refused to meet his gaze.

“Not here. We should get you some food first.” He said, offering a small smile.”And maybe a shower.” He wanted the angel taken care of, clean and well rested, before they got to that news.

“Dean is… angry?” Castiel said slowly, watching as the older man forcefully strided back up the bank to collect their scattered clothing. He grabbed the garments, one by one and tossed them down to the car, keeping his back to them the entire time. “I had to get you away… from...” He trailed of, his hand coming up to cover his face as his ears rang and pain shot through his forehead.

He was starting to think he had well and truly broken his vessel some how.

Sam shook his head. “It’s not you he’s mad at.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, his hand dropping to his side, trying to ignore the blood that still covered them.

“The hunters are dead.” Because that was the next logical conclusion surely.

Sam smiled softly, rubbing his hand reassuringly up the angel’s back as he turned his chin so he would look at him. Afraid that if he moved from his position, Castiel would collapse completely.

“It’s not them either, he’s just… losing faith.” Castiel tilted his head, watching the tightened yet sad expression flash across the hunters face, he tried to smile through it, tried to make it so Cas wouldn’t worry. It didn’t work. “Later.” He promised, realizing this.

He carefully got to his feet, his hands not once leaving Castiel as he slowly helped him up too.

The angel was surprised to find himself falling forward, a rush of something infiltrating his head, making him stumble. He went to grip hold of Sam’s hand for balance  but the hunter had already anticipated this, meeting him halfway.

He looked down at his legs curiously when he was steadied, wondering if it was normal for them to refuse to support his weight?

He really did not feel right.

Sam’s concern deepened and he pulled him closer, reaching for Castiel’s arm and pulling it around his shoulders.

“I’ll see if I can get a signal up on the road. Give Bobby a call.” Perhaps he could also find someone kind enough to stop and give Cas some water. Dean barely acknowledged he had spoken and Castiel found his eyes narrowing  again, in suspicion this time. He didn’t get a chance to ask however, as Sam carefully guided him around and headed up the slope.

\-----------------------

“You have to tell him.” Castiel heard Dean say, not needing to open his eyes to know it was Sam he was speaking too. The smell of old books and gunpowder filled up his senses within seconds, making it easy for him to work out they were back at Bobby's . He ran his hand along the fabric he lay against, confirming his suspicions that he was on the old couch that Sam often commandeered. He went to move, to inform them that he was awake, but a strange instinct overtook him and instead he found himself pausing. “He has a right to know.”

He cocked his head very slightly to the side, listening for Sam’s response.“He can barely sit up by himself, it’s not the time.”

He opened one of his eyes a fraction, the one nearest to the pillow and carefully looked around the room. Nothing had changed since they were last there, though there was no sign of the oldest hunter. Dean was leaning against a wall, in a change of clothes, a beer in his hand, his expression fixed, while Sam was stood with his back to him. Both of them obvious to his conscious state.

“And when he can? What’s the excuse going to be then?” Dean took a swig of his drink, raising an eyebrow and Castiel watched as Sam turned away from his brother, folding his arms defensively across his chest.

“There won't be one.” He replied, his voice tight, causing Castiel to frown. "I will tell him, but he’s sick Dean, he’s in no state to handle it.”

Handle what? He wanted to question. What had happened in heaven to suddenly make Sam want to keep things from him?

"You're underestimating him.”

Castiel looked back to Sam his eyes narrowing, he doubted that somehow. The younger Winchester had never looked at him with anything but awe and while he had his doubts that his human status might change things, Sam had made it abundantly clear that was not the case. What's more he had believed him, he really truly did.

Perhaps he was wrong to, perhaps his judgment was clouded by what he hoped to be true. But he had seen the sincerity in his eyes and no matter what that little voice was telling him, he could not bring himself to listen to it.

“No, I’m not," Sam argued back, with a fierceness to his tone Castiel was unused to. "I just-" He stopped, averting his eyes, almost like he didn’t know how to explain his reasoning's. He turned to face the couch and Castiel only narrowly avoid being caught. “I don’t want him to have to deal with this while feeling like shit.”

He took a few steps forward, sitting himself down on the armrest and placed his hand to the angel’s shoulder, tracing his thumb across his skin. Dealing with feelings of betrayal were hard enough without having to do so with emotions that were heightened by exhaustion. He would never dream of keeping the news from him, but he wanted to break it to him with the softest possible blow. Was that really so wrong?

Castiel couldn't help the small smile that worked its way onto his face, despite how much he tried to fight it off.

The hunter looked back up, hoping that it would be enough of a reason to make Dean drop it.

It wasn’t.

“We’ve dealt with worse. Hell I’m damn sure he has too.” He continued. You didn’t get to live for millenniums without your fair share of disappointments. He knew perhaps he was being harsh, but they didn’t have the luxury of having time on their side. It wasn’t that long ago he was on the receiving end of Sam’s deception and while he had promised to leave it in the past, it didn’t change the fact he would have done anything to have found out sooner. Who knows what circumstances would have changed with a little more forewarning. “Dead-beat dad’s are hardly a surprise anymore.”

Castiel expression dropped, what was that supposed to mean?

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged removing his hand. “ But emotions are new to him Dean and I want to give him the best chance to deal with them.” He knew how much faith in God sorting out the apocalypse the angel had. To tell him now, when he sick, just seemed unnecessarily cruel.

“He won't thank you for it.”

Castiel diverted his attention completely to Dean for a moment, practically feeling the atmosphere around them crackling. A part of him wanted to sit up and demand answers, to take Dean’s side, but one look back to Sam, kept him at bay. He had never made decisions like this on his behalf before, if he was doing so now, then he had to believe there was a reason for it,

“Probably not.” Sam admitted with a lick of his lips. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe Cas wouldn’t be angry with him when it all came out. “But I don’t care. It’s what’s best for him right now.”

Castiel was taken aback to see Dean’s expression instantly darken.

“And what gives you the right to decided that for anyone?” He replied, his jaw clenched. It seemed to be an ever recurring habit of his brother’s- first with his visions, then with what Azazel did to him, then there was working with Ruby, then drinking the demon blood, it was all just too much. Every time he did it, something went drastically wrong, but he never seemed to learn. “ Take it from someone who's been on the receiving end of your lies Sammy, nothing ever justifies it.”

Sam swallowed hard, his chin drawing in slightly, his eyes flashing with hurt. He looked away, not saying a word and a thick silence fell between them.

Castiel immediately pressed his hands to the mattress, trying to gauge whether he had the strength in them to push himself up. No matter what Sam was trying to keep him in the dark over, he hadn’t deserved that. There was a line between Dean fighting his corner, and just saying stuff to hurt his brother and he was getting dangerous close to crossing it.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Sam beat him to it.

“That was low.” He kept his gaze to the floor, but even with that, he could see Dean taking another swig of his beer.

The older man shrugged his shoulder. “Doesn’t stop it being true.”

Sam pushed himself to his feet and took a few steps forward, anger flashing behind his eyes. 

“You want to tell him? Now? Fine go ahead,”  Sam’s arm flung out, gesturing towards Castiel and the angel found himself dropping all pretense that he was still asleep. “But don’t you dare pretend we both don’t know what this is really about.”

Castiel sat up, tilting his head to the side, trying his best to understand what Sam was hinting at. He seemed to always miss something where the Winchesters were concerned.

Dean curled his lip, shaking his head as if to deny the accusation.“This is about him deserving the truth. Its about him realizing that family let you down-”

“You mean like I always let you down?” Sam interrupted, and Dean sucked in a breathe, his expression tightening.

“I didn’t say that.” But even the angel could tell his protest was weak. In fact, his whole posture was.

“You didn’t have to, I’ve been watching you since I was a baby, do you really not think I don’t know how to read you by now?”  Sam said, raising his voice slightly. He had had enough of the game they played, pretending everything was fine when the opposite couldn’t be more true.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

Sam let out an exasperated breath, licking at his lips as he tried to gather the courage to speak. Knowing the words were going to feel like acid on his tongue. “That, Joshua was right?”

He braced himself, waiting for a response. No matter how much he knew it to be true, he still needed to hear it from his brother’s own lips.

Dean looked away, his jaw set as the some of the last words the angel said to him rang in his ears.

_‘You don’t know if you can do it, this time. You can’t kill the Devil, and you’re losing faith, in yourself, your brother, and now this? God was your last hope...’_

What could he say to that? He had been trying for months to stay positive, to believe that there was a way to stop the apocalypse, a way for both him and Sam to come through it without becoming puppets. He’d put so much faith into their relationship, into knowing that they could keep each other strong. But seeing Sam’s memories had only made him realize how wrong all of that was. He didn’t mean anything close to Sam in comparison to what Sam meant to him. His brother’s heaven did not include him and he had seen the future with his own eyes. Seen the meat suit Sam was set to become. How could he keep believing he could be the one thing to prevent that from happening, when Sam’s greatest hits were all about escaping him. And there was no greater escape than giving your soul to the devil.

“Maybe he was.” His voice was quiet, but to Sam it felt like it was shouted down his very ears, each word leaving a permanent mark on his skin. He tried to swallow back his emotions, but Dean saw them anyway.

He could only shrug his shoulders again.

If God himself had given up on the world, what was the point in them trying to stop the inevitable.

“Dean, we will find another way, we can still stop this.”

Dean looked up, for the first time properly looking him in the eye. “How?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find it. You and me, we’ll find it.”

Dean couldn’t help but scoff. “You and me? I've wasted enough of my time, believing in something that doesn’t exist.” The wasting my time believing in you, went unsaid, but they both heard it anyway. Sam looked away, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He hadn’t expected that. “Whatever man.” Dean continued gesturing with his arms. “I’m sorry I make you so damn miserable.”

Sam snapped his head back around in protest. “You don’t!”

That couldn't have been further from the truth. 

 Dean raised an eyebrow. “A life time ago I may have believed that. But your heaven… it’s told me all I needed to know.” He turned his back to Sam, abandoning his now empty drink bottle. He couldn't stand there and listen to another pack of lies. The Winchesters against the world? What a joke.

Sam's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to try and explain, his mind shouting out a 1000 reasons for why his memories had been what they were. What Joshua had said had only confirmed it for him. He couldn't force a single theory out though as he watched his brother march out of the room.

Castiel could only sit and watch as the complete devastation worked its way onto Sam’s face. He may not have understood what it was about, but his heart stung for both of them all the same. As Dean's footsteps became quieter, followed by the familiar sound of the front door slamming shut, the angel reached out a hand.

“Sam…”

The younger Winchester couldn't even bring himself to turn.

 He did not want salvation, if he lost his brother in the process. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I'm going to have to do some serious fluff when the heavy stuff is over wont I :')


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crawls out of woodwork* Hello! Im so sorry, i got stuck in a grey's anatomy marathon and then GishWhes happened and writting just did not. This will be a double update though to make up for it! And Fluff!! You asked for Fluff and i will provide you with fluff!!*

_While he wasn’t entirely sure who they were waiting on, a small part of Castiel had to admit he liked being this close to Sam. He enjoyed how they were starting to spend their nights, but he hadn’t quite realized the intimacy could extend to the day too. Granted in this case, it was mostly because he couldn’t support his own weight , but that didn’t make having Sam’s arms wrapped around him any less appealing._

_“It’s okay, it’s ours!” He heard Sam say and he slowly tilted his head to look up at him in confusion. He soon realized the comment wasn't being directed at him however and cranked his neck around to follow Sam's gaze._

_Through blurred vision he watched as a police vehicle crawled to a stop alongside them, a mop of dark hair sticking out of the window. The hunter held up a placating hand as the driver’s door swung open and the officer stepped out._

_“Then wouldn’t an ambulance have been more appropriate?” The woman asked, though there seemed to be something other than a question being conveyed in her tone. Her eyes scanned up and down them for a second, taking in the blood that soaked their clothes and the clear bullet holes in Sam’s shirt. “Or a mortician.”  she added as an afterthought._

_Castiel frowned, more so when he felt Sam’s shoulders shake in amusement._

_That wasn’t funny,_

_That would never be funny._

_“No, no we’re not injured.” Sam reassured, flashing the woman a smile, his hand trailing  down to rest in the dip of Castiel’s back. She raised her eyebrows, but choose not to comment as she reached over to open the backdoor._

_“Of course you're not.” She muttered under her breathe, her expression remaining dubious as she shook her head. While she knew after meeting the Winchesters her life would never be the same again , she hadn’t quite anticipated this level of, well, weird._

_Before Castiel could question it, Sam was guiding him forward, encouraging him to get inside the car. The angel looked to him in a daze, but did as requested all the same._

_“Thanks for this Jody. We owe you one.” Sam continued, his hand briefly squeezing Castiel’s shoulder. Upon hearing her name, Castiel snapped his head around to look up at the woman again. Oh. That was why her voice sounded so familiar.“ I’ll go get Dean.”_

_It was pathetic but Castiel found his body leaning into the touch as it was withdrawn, almost pleading with it to stay. It sent such warm sensations spiraling through him, a welcomed difference to the cold that seemed to have been embedded into his bones._

_He frowned, catching himself before he could protest and leant back against the headrest instead. Sam hadn’t stopped touching him since he had awoken, how could he possibly be craving more of it now?_

_With a sigh, his eyes slipped closed, allowing him to take a few seconds to brush the desire away._

_“This is the first, and last favour I do for Bobby Singer.” He heard Jody announce, glancing down to him as she folded her arms and leant her weight against the shell of the car. Castiel reopened his eyes and stared up at her irritatedly in response._

_If he could have found the strength, he would have told her how incredibly wrong she was._

\-----

Sam sat down on the edge of the couch, next to Castiel’s waist, rubbing at his hands to try and regulate his breathing. He glanced to the angel, then down and away to where he had last seen Dean, unsure of what he was supposed to do for the best. He felt torn between staying with Castiel and going after his brother.

On the one hand, the Impala still needed a lot of work, so he knew exactly where Dean would be heading off to. But if he went after him now, with their tempers up in arms, everything between them would just end up getting worse. He knew it was best to let things cool off, but that was his brother and he thought he didn’t care. How could he leave it like that?

Then there was Cas, who’d obviously heard them, who wanted an explanation to something he hadn’t yet found the words for.  He thought he’d have time, time to work out how best to say it.

He had considered just getting straight to the point ‘Your father is an ass who is leaving us all to die.’ but he knew he would never be able to bring himself to put it like that. However Castiel was, and would always be in his eyes, an angel, so taking the soft approach didn’t seem right somehow either. He wasn’t one of their case victims, he would not take kindly to being treated as if he was made of glass.

“I didn’t realise you were awake.” He settled on saying, while desperately searching his brain for an in between.

“It would be difficult for anyone to sleep through that.” Castiel replied, his head tilting to the side slightly as he studied the man, his eyes narrowing.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to know more, what they were keeping from him or what Dean had meant when he spoke of Sam’s heaven. Sam winced at the words, causing the angel to frown, he had not meant it harshly, he was merely stating a fact.

“Sorry.” Sam said all the same, reaching over to the table on his left, to pass the angel a glass of water. “How are you feeling?”

Castiel took it begrudgingly, understanding the unspoken demand that he needed to drink it. He brought it to his lips, his hand shaking slightly and Sam immediately reached to help steady them. While he wasn’t particularly thirsty anymore, he figured complying would get him answers the quickest.

“I believe I’m well enough to hear an explanation.” Castiel replied, placing his hands in his lap as the glass was removed from them. If the hunter was not going to volunteer the information, then he was going to ask for it.

Sam licked his lips, rather reluctantly, but nodded all the same. As much as he didn’t want to break it to him, he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. Dean was right, he did deserve to know, especially now he knew there was something to know. Still, that didn’t help ease the pit that was growing in his stomach the more he looked into Cas’ eyes. He had put so much faith into his father, to find out he was just another let down was going to be hard, especially with thousands of decades worth of belief behind him.

He supposed in that aspect, he and Dean had been lucky, they knew what their father was. He just hoped in the end, God could come through for Cas, like John had done for them.

He was so lost in thought, he was taken by surprise when Castiel reached out, taking hold of his hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

He smiled slightly, understanding the gesture for what it was.The reassurance that whatever he was about to say, it would be okay.

Now if only he could bring himself to believe that.

“I don’t know where to start.” He admitted and Castiel had to force himself to remain still, his lip twitching slightly into a brief frown. The longer the matter remained unaddressed the more it seemed to get on his nerves, while filling him with a mixture of unease at the same time. He was quickly finding experiencing more than one human emotion at once was far from pleasant. They all conflicted with each other too much to allow him to feel settled.

He looked down to their hands as Sam squeezed back, giving the man a moment to think.  He blinked however when he took in the colour of his own, taken aback to see they were no longer a reddish brown but his original tanned skin tone. He had become so used to seeing the blood, he had forgotten it wasn’t supposed to be there.

He twisted his hand, maneuvering his fingers so his and Sam’s  were threaded together.

The hunter had been the one to scrub them clean. When they got back to Bobby’s, it was one of the first tasks he had taken too. He remembered wondering at the time, if the sight of it had bothered the man as much as it did him.

\------

_“Here sit down.” Sam said, guiding the angel into a seat in Bobby’s kitchen. He closed his eyes as he did as he was instructed, looking away from the lights as another bottle of water was placed in his hands. Every time he moved, they seemed to be passing him more ‘to sip on’. It was apparently important he did not drink it all at once but equally important he had plenty of it._

_Human rules on digestion confused him to no end. He was starting to think they were just throwing ideas at him. If he needed water, how could drinking it too fast possibly make him sick?_

_While he hated to think badly of his father's work, the more he learnt about vessels, the more he couldn’t help but feel there were a few serious flaws in his designs._

_“What kind of ijit sits out in the woods with no supplies?” Bobby questioned, appearing in front of him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He blinked, trying to back away from the sound of his voice, he hadn’t quite realized how loud the man tended to speak before now. It was grating to his ears that had become so used to silence._

_“The ones who are in lov-”_

_“-Dean!”_

_Castiel leant back in his chair completely, trying desperately to follow what was going on. Bobby seemed to have vanished and in his place was Sam again, holding a bowl of water this time. The angel found himself glancing at it with dread. Surely they couldn’t be expecting him to drink all of that? His stomach would ever be able to handle it. It already felt all, liquidy?_

_He diverted his attention up to Sam, fully intending to verbalize this thought. The hunter wasn’t looking at him however and it took him a second to work out that he was glaring at his brother. He followed his gaze curiously, watching as Dean smirked and opened one of Bobby’s cupboard drawers, taking something from inside._

_Sam soon blocked his vision of the man as he placed the bowl onto the table and reached over to take hold of his hands._

_The angel frowned as looked to them, half tempted to pull them from Sam’s touch. They were still covered in blood, Sam’s blood, and it just wasn’t right. He barely gave more than a brief tug before Sam had maneuvered his hold to his wrist, rolling up the sleeves on his right arm first, then his left._

_The next thing he really knew, there was a jiggle of keys and he and Sam were alone again, his hands being dipped into the lukewarm water._

_“Lets get this off you.” Sam spoke softly, getting to his feet and leaning over his shoulder. He ran both of his hand’s through Cas’, brushing a cloth gently over his skin. The angel watched as the water changed from a clear liquid to a mucky red._

_As his skin became clearer he felt the uncomfortable twinge that had settled in his chest get a little less tight. He glanced up at Sam, watching the man’s adam’s apple move as he swallowed hard. It must not have been very pleasant to see that amount of his own blood, caked on someone else. With all the issues Sam had with demon blood, dealing with this was probably the last thing he needed._

_He closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh as his arms were dipped in deeper and Sam’s hands ran up them._

_He didn’t know how long they stayed like that for but Sam traced over every single finger beneath the surface. He rubbed his thumbs in circles across his palms, around his wrists, working a brush in between his nails with great care._

_It was all very warm and nice. Both the water and Sam’s touch._

_“You’ll feel better when it’s done.”_

_He already did, but he wasn’t about to vocalize that. His heart speeding up as he felt the tail end of Sam’s breath on the side of his neck._

\----------------

“Try the beginning.” He suggested, shaking the memory away. It never failed to surprise him how his body reacted to touch now. He had never needed it before, certainly never desired it, but suddenly he craved it from Sam endlessly. There was just something about him that made him different, that made his body want more. He was almost certain if Sam had not annihilated famine, then that  red meat craving would have been nothing in comparison to what he wanted now.

The hunter nodded, his eyes becoming slightly guarded, trying to prevent the angel from reading anything from him.

Recognizing this, only caused Castiel’s concerns to grow.

Just what was he hiding?

“You prayed.” Sam said simply, and Castiel found himself drawing back. Yes, he had, quite a few times actually. How could he not have when the two people who had come to mean so much to him, were in need of help that he could not provide? They had been open prayers, sent to no one directly, but pleading for the help of any angel who did not believe what was happening was right.

There was no way for Sam to know that though?

Prayers could not be heard by the human souls, no matter where they resided.

“Yes?” He tilted his head to the side, drawing his legs up and crossing them over each other to give Sam some more room. The hunter seemed to be grateful for that as he sat back further onto the couch, bringing one of his own legs up to allow him to turn his body to face Castiel.

“Well someone answered.” He replied, offering up a small smile as the confusion on the other’s face continued to grow. “We were living through our memories, I’m not sure for how long, time didn’t really  seem to register you know?  But some angel, got in contact with Dean, said 'she' heard your prayers and had come to help."

“An angel?” Castiel repeated, his face flashing with suspicion. After everything he had done, he did not think there was anyone left up there who would dare to go against the archangels for him. He had fallen, he had betrayed them, gone against everything they were programmed for and trained to believe. For someone to answer, to help Dean and by extension Sam, just didn’t seem possible.  Not without some sort of serious agender. “Which angel Sam?”

Sam shrugged a shoulder, licking at his top lip. He honestly didn’t know and while a part of him had feared it was a trick, that whoever it  was, was leading them straight to the lion’s den, the other part of him heard it in ‘her’ voice.

The way ‘she’ spoke about Castiel, was full of respect and sincerity, even if she did not understand his connection with them, she believed in him and that was enough for her to fulfill his request. God gave them a mission, to protect humanity and she for one still believed it should be followed through.

“I don’t know. Names were apparently unimportant. She seemed to care about you though.” That was the only detail he could think of that could be classed as identifying. It wasn't like any sort of physical description would be of any use. She had borrowed a voice to communicate with them, but angels could appear as anyone. "Do you know of anyone who would want to help?"

 Castiel's looked up in severe concentration. Had he not killed Anna, she would have been his first choice, she was the only other angel he knew of to go against Michael’s orders after all. Everyone else, stood by their commands.

Or so he thought.

He looked back down, directly into Sam’s eyes.

“No. I don't.” He replied, before looking away as the names of all the other angels in his garrison flashed through his mind.

_Hester, Inias, Samandiriel?_

Were there any of them who would still listen for him?   Who would respond even if they did not understand his reasonings? He very much doubted it.

 _Esper, Nathaniel,_ _Ion?_

None of them particularly liked the missions on earth. Or the fact he was getting close to the Winchesters. He had many meetings after Uriel's death, with them telling him to take a step back.

 _Bartholomew?_ Now that on was just laughable.

He was about to reaffirm his answer, when his eyes widened suddenly as one final name hit him.

Of course,

_Rachel_

She was always one to show such incredible loyalty, who looked to him for guidance as well as providing support. She always called herself his friend, held such incredible faith.

He cleared his throat as Sam looked to him questionably and shook his head. She risked herself to help them once already, he would not risk her further by mentioning her name. “We are getting off topic."

Sam nodded, choosing not to press the issue, though he could not help the curiosity that coursed through him as Castiel glanced upwards again, his eyes full of silent gratitude.

“She talked to Dean through the Impala… Told him how to find me and then how to follow the Axis ....” He trailed off, trying to think of the word Dean had used. He remembered clearly the events that unfolded up there, but that didn't mean certain details weren’t slightly hazy.

“The Axis Mundi. It’s a path that runs through heaven. Leads to the garden.” Castiel injected, his forehead creasing slightly. He had heard the rumors, of course he had, they had been going for years. The gardener being the only one to still communicate with God. Some believed it, others did not. Though no one ever  investigated whether it was true. If she had sent them along that path, it must have been for them to reach him?

She had always said he was special. 

“Right.” Sam nodded, shifting slightly in his seat. “She said this other angel- Joshua- wanted to speak to us and our best chance was to find him there first. Because if Zachariah got to us... ” He trailed off, that was better left unsaid and from the look on Cas’ face he understood what would have happened anyway.

“And you found him?” He asked, his eyes almost lighting up as he drew in a hopeful breathe. If they told him what was happening, he could have got the message to God by now and it could all be over. His father could have returned to Heaven as he slept and everything could be back to how it should be. 

His expression slipped however as he watched the hunter duck his head, looking away like he didn’t want to face him at all. He felt his unease rapidly grow, his stomach dropping as he tried to work out what that meant.

Nothing good, that was for sure.

“Not exactly.” Sam replied, his eyes focused on the bookcase on the other side of the room. “In order to find him, we had to go through all these memories, parts of mine and Dean’s heavens…”

Castiel nodded, interpreting the look on Sam’s face, as them having difficulty. But that was to be expected. Directing yourself through heaven was never meant to be something a human could accomplish. “And you remember? What those were?”

Sam nodded. “Unfortunately.”

He would have given anything for that not to be the case.

Castiel frowned, a soul’s heaven was meant to bring them joy, was meant to be an eternal resting place. It should not have produced that reaction in Sam.  “That is a problem? Why?”

Sam looked back to the angel, who just sat there staring at him, patiently waiting for some sort of answer. He sighed, briefly closing his eyes. “My heaven doesn’t include Dean, he saw that for himself and now he thinks that I don’t care…that I just want to get away from him.”

Castiel slowly tilted his head to the side, picking apart his whole posture. “Which is not true?”

He knew the answer of course, hell anyone who had ever spent more than a few minutes in the Winchester’s company, knew the answer. Still he had to ask, had to hear Sam’s stance on it if he ever hoped to understand what was going on.

“Of course its not.” Sam shot back defensively. Dean had been his hero since he was old enough to understand what a hero was, before that even. He was the one always there, the one who taught him to read, to walk, to speak, when their dad disappeared for days at a time. Dean was the one constant in his life, the one he would do anything for. To suggest anything otherwise, made his toes curl.

“Then perhaps you should tell him that.” 

Sam once again shook his head.

“It’s not that easy. It doesn’t change the fact my heaven, was what it was. And you know, I’m not complaining. I get it, I do.” Castiel raised an eyebrow, he was glad someone did because he sure as hell didn't. “But It's like Joshua said, God was kind enough to grant me salvation, even after what I’ve done, it would be naive to think that… that... didn’t come at a price.” He paused, clearing his throat, like the words were almost choking him. “It's still only right that I’m still punished for my sins.”

Castiel cocked his head even further to the side, his mouth parting slightly as he watched the inner turmoil flash across Sam’s face.

What on earth was he talking about?

“I’m ….afraid I'm not following.” He was almost certain that would have been the case even without the lingering headache.

Sam brushed his hand down his face, trying to think of another way to explain it. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he prepared himself to go through it again.

” I have good memories of Dean, real good memories, that meant a hell of alot more to me than what we saw up there. But, I know I don't deserve to relive them, you know.” He nodded his head, certain of this fact. “I’m happy with anything I can get. It may not be perfect, but,” He shrugged. “Its more than I ever imagined I’d have. And that's okay.” He spared a glance back to angel, hoping this time he got it. That he didn’t have to spell out how massively the lord disapproved of his actions, to the point he only gave him a place up there that just about scraped the bottom of the barrel.

For the longest moment Castiel was silent, his expression completely unreadable. Then, he slowly opened his mouth, not quite believing what he had just heard.

“That is… not, how heaven works Sam.” He said carefully, trying to make sure he took the time to understand completely.“ There are no… conditions. Or… exceptions. If a soul is not bound for hell it, its resting place is absolute.”

“But-” Sam started, but Castiel held his hand up, effectively cutting him off.

“No Sam, Dean can not simply be cut out of your afterlife because you have done questionable things. No matter how undeserving of utopia you feel yourself to be.”  Because wasn’t that always what it came down to with the Winchesters, them not feeling like they deserved something? Whether it was Dean with being pulled out of hell, or Sam with being allowed anything good, it was always the same.

“Then why…” A thousand things flashed across Sam’s face as he tried to understand what that meant. If he couldn’t be prevented by God from having memories of Dean and his Dad and all the other good moments he had had in his life, then why did he see what he saw? Not even Jess had popped up once and she at one stage was his whole entire world.

Instead of being surrounded by love, he got being left on that road, watching his dad and Dean drive away from him. It had been heartbreaking at the time. Had left him feeling isolated and lonely and while he looked forward to his future away from the hunting business, he had never wanted it to be at the price of his actual family.

He just wanted to be normal. But even then he wasn’t normal.

“Angels are not above manipulation to get what they want.” Castiel replied and Sam’s eyes finally darted back to him, his forehead creasing.

“Are you saying none of it was real?” Could that even be possible? Zachariah talked of torturing them into submission, he had thought Joshua got them away before that could happen. Was he wrong? Had it started the moment they got to heaven? Were the angels playing on fears they held at the back of their minds, screwing with their bond? Had they figured there was no better way than to get their yes' then by shattering what the had?

_Of course they had._

“I have no way of knowing that for sure.” Castiel continued, trying to break Sam out of this thoughts. “It is however, what I would have done .” Hell, that was tame in comparison to what he was trained to accomplish. 

Sam nodded, his jaw locking as bit down and swallowed hard, his anger slowly starting to come back to the surface.

How dare they? How dare they hurt his brother in this way. How could he have even allowed them to do it in the first place? He should have realized, he should have said something the moment it started happening. Bones was one thing, but that night? He shouldn’t have tried to hide it from Dean. He should have shouted it out as bull shit right there and then. 

Maybe, just maybe, then he wouldn’t have had a brother so depressed, so lacking in hope, that he couldn’t even bare to be in the same room as him.

"I'm going to rip their heads off." 

Castiel raised his eyebrows, his eyes trailing downwards to watch Sam's hands form into fists.

"That's not advisable." He replied, taking the man by surprise. "It would only succeed in... pissing... them off." And they would be on their feet, reattaching the limp, before Sam recovered from the strike. 

Sam closed his eyes, snorting slightly in an exhausted form of amusement.  Yeah, okay, wrong choice of words. The sentiment remained the same however. They wouldn't get away with this.

They fell into a silence and Castiel managed just about four breath cycles before he could stand not knowing any longer. 

“So why did you have to speak to Joshua?” Sam shot his attention back to the angel. He had almost forgotten.

For the smallest of moments, he thought about saying nothing, about denying everything and just going off to find Dean.

He couldn't bring himself to so much as shake his head however and one look into the Cas' eyes, made him discard the idea entirely.

To lie, would make him no better than the angels themselves.

With great reluctance, he slowly opened his mouth.

“He had a message to deliver from God.... He already knows what’s happening Cas, but he’s not interested in stopping any of it.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****This is part of a double update so if your just clicking to the latest chapter make sure you hop back a page!!****

_"Do you think you can manage by yourself?" Sam asked, helping Castiel sit down on the edge of the bath._

_The angel nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly at the accusation that he couldn’t. "I'm not a child."_

_Despite trying to fight off the amusement, the small smile that appeared on Sam’s face, gave the game away. As Castiel glared, he ducked his head, allowing his hair to fall forward for him to hide behind. He reached over to put the plug in the bath and twisted the tap on, watching out of the corner of his eye as the man half heartedly tugged at his sleeves.  He splashed his hand underneath the running water after a few seconds, wanting to make sure Bobby's thermostat hadn't gone again. Giving an already grumpy angel a cold bath was not in anyone's best interest. Least of all his own._

_As the warm water ran across his fingers, he saw a flurry of movement  and snapped his attention back to the swaying figure beside him._

_"Woah!" Sam gasped, reacting on impulse as the man fell forward, his eyes almost rolling back. He grabbed him by the arms to help steady him and gently pushed him him back into an upright position, taking care to keep his grip firm. Supportive. Castiel's eyes fell closed c_ _ompletely_ _, spots dancing behind his vision. "Hey, hey, Cas."_

_The angel forced his eyes open again at the sound of his name, his hand coming up to rest against his forehead as he did._

_"Perhaps I do require some assistance." He admitted. While the food and water had helped greatly, he was still having a number of problems with his vessel’s responses._

_Sam nodded, carefully helping to pull the jumper over his head. He tossed it to the floor when his arms were freed and reached for his shirt next, cautiously keeping a steadying hand on the angel as he went to remove that too. "You know that's nothing to be ashamed of right? "_

_Castiel refused to look up, hating everything he was turning into. To think of the power he once held, now he couldn't even do the most basic of human tasks._

_It was pathetic, laughable._

_He was well and truly paying the price for his betrayal._

_His siblings must have been thrilled._

_"Why am I like this?" He asked, watching as the shirt joined the jumper on the floor. Sam crouched down, so they were more at eye level, placing a hand to his knee comfortingly. If he was completely honest, he didn't know whether he was referring to his health or the fact he no longer had access to his grace. For both of their sakes he decided to pretend it was the former._

_"It's kinda what happens when we deprive the body of things. We need to sleep and eat and stay hydrated in order to function properly."_

_"I did all those things." Cas protested weakly, a confused scowl surfacing on his face. He'd even gone as far as eating Dean's pie, despite knowing the consequences of doing that. Incidentally, he was now very aware of the fact he really, really did not like the blasted things. It was far too sweet and sickly. Still, he had eaten it, surely that counted for something? Sam shook his head, trying his hardest not to find Castiel’s apparent new grumpiness adorable. Several past broken limbs had shown him how frustrating it was not being able to do things for yourself, for an angel, it must have been ten times worse._

_"Not nearly enough. Recommended amounts are recommended for a reason.” He didn’t want to be ‘that guy’ the lecturer, the one who said ‘I told you so’ but if this had taught him anything, it was that Cas needed to learn to take care of himself without prompt. Michael was probably going to end up killing both Dean and himself, if through some miracle Cas survived, he needed to know he would be okay. That he would remember to do these things._

_“It was once recommended that we smite every first born son.” Castiel replied, taking Sam by surprise as he turned his attention to a photo that hung on the wall beside them.  “I'm sure Dean is grateful that was not adhered to for long.” he continued, his eyes darting back to Sam, an eyebrow rising, almost challengingly._

_That time, Sam couldn't stop the snort which followed, even if he sold his soul to try to prevent it._

_“Yeah okay, but this is what happens when you don't.”  He said, forcing his face into a more neutral expression._

_Castiel narrowed his eyes, his eyes travelling down to his slightly sweaty torso. He shivered as a small amount of air hit it, causing goosebumps to raise underneath his skin. “How can people stand the maintenance?"_

_Sam shrugged, his hands reaching down to the angels leather shoes and pulling them off. "We can't, we tend to complain a whole lot. But it's just one of those things. And you know when you think about the alternative, not being able to feel, or love, or have any form of free will, well, it's a price most people are willing to pay."_

_Castiel looked up at him, because despite his position, Sam was still taller than him. He tilted his head to one side, trying to take in what he was saying. He thought for a moment about what he was before the Winchesters, and whether he would ever willingly go back to that. He had never been what they would call ‘a hammer’ he always had his doubts. But doubts were to be ignored, were never to be acted upon unless you wanted to spend some serious time in heaven’s jail._ _And you could believe him when he said, that was not something anyone wanted to endure._

_But he was weak now, he couldn't fly, couldn't hear the voices of his family, or use any of his powers._

_Were feelings and choices really worth all that?_

_He looked back into Sam’s eyes. Sam's multicoloured, ever changing eyes._

_Was what they had really worth the price?_

_Sam gave him a soft smile, a little dimple popping up on one of his cheeks and slowly, Castiel found himself nodding. Because yeah, he might not have liked it, but that didn't mean he wanted to change anything._

_Sam's smile grew wider, causing Castiel to lick his lips, his chest constricting. He watched in mild fascination as Sam's eyes dropped and the beginning of a blush worked its way onto his cheeks. He followed his gaze to his jeans in confusion, wondering what was going through the man's head now._

_"Umm can you stand up for a minute, I'm going to need to..." He indicated downwards with his head and Castiel squinted, trying to understand. Sam hesitantly pointed a finger towards his zipper and his mouth parted slightly._

_Oh. Right._

_He was supposed to be getting undressed._

_He did as he was told, using one of Sam's shoulders for support as the man attentively undid the button on his jeans, his cheeks flushing._

_Castiel couldn't help but raise an eyebrow the deeper the colour became._

_Slowly the hunter slipped the material down over his hips and helped him step out of them. It was no surprise to either of them to see the skin underneath stained brown, where the blood had clearly soaked through._

_"Ummm." Sam mumbled, reaching over to turn the bath water off. "Do you want to stay in your pants or?"_

_Castiel cocked his head, an even more confused expression flashing across his face. "I believe that would defeat the purpose."_

_Having a wash required all body parts to be exposed for cleansing did it not?_

_"Right." Sam nodded, though the shade of his face didn't let up._

_Castiel frowned._

_"Unless you would prefer I kept them on?" He shifted, suddenly feeling slightly more awkward than he did before. He hadn't been phased about the thought of Sam seeing his vessel naked in the past. But it felt different now somehow and he couldn’t help but wonder what had changed. It wasn’t the thought of nudity that was bothering him either, it was the fact he almost wanted Sam to want it._

_And there was a slight feeling of disappointment that he didn't._

_"No, no, you're right, that would be... Impractical." Sam glanced back to his pants, praying to God he remembered to lock the door, despite Dean still being off towing the Impala. He was still very much on his knees, and couldn't help the way his heart thumped heavily against his chest. He was almost certain if he could hear it, then Cas would be able to too.To make matters worse, he had had a very similar dream  to this not that long ago and of course, it was all he could think about right now. Though he was in his current position for an entirely different reason._

_Castiel nodded, watching Sam carefully, feeling oddly transfixed by the man's reaction. "I could probably..." He reached for his waistband, feeling sturdier than before and Sam all but bolted to his feet._

_"Okay."_

_He put a hand under one of Castiel’s elbows and moved his other to his bare shoulder, just to be sure he'd stay balanced. Castiel slipped his pants off with little difficulty, adding them to the growing pile on the floor. He looked back to Sam and the two stood in silence for a moment just staring at each other. Eventually Sam managed to divert his eyes and indicated for Castiel to turn around._

_He helped lower him into the tub, trying to make a point of staring at the tiles on the wall rather than anywhere else as he did. Once he was sure Castiel wasn’t going to slip under the water, he turned, pulling the toilet seat lid down so he could perch on top of it._

_Castiel looked to his legs, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in the stains on them. The more he looked at it, the more weird he began to feel, itchy, like he just wanted to scrub at his skin until all traces of it were wiped away. His desire must have shown through on his face because Sam was suddenly holding a sponge._

_“We’ll get it cleaned off.” He said and Castiel turned his head to look to him, unsure if that was an offer to do it, or whether he was simply offering the means to achieve it. Sam didn’t seem entirely sure of that point either, as his hand sort of hovered in the air. The stains seemed to cover the inside of his ankles, all the way up to his thighs and while the bottom half wouldn't be a problem, Sam was having difficulty deciding where the line was._

_Eventually, Castiel got tired of waiting and reached for it himself, mimicking the actions Sam had taken with his hands earlier. Which was fine, when he worked on his calfs, the higher up he got however the more Sam shifted in his seat._

_He cleared his throat suddenly, licking his lips as he found a very interesting spot to his right just as Castiel began to reach a few inches above his knees.  The angel couldn’t help the small feeling of satisfaction which rippled through him the more Sam reacted. There was just something about the look in his eyes and the colour of his cheeks which reminded the angel of his promise for revenge after the ‘tickle’ incident._

_He wondered just how far he could take this before Sam was the one lying breathless._

_He trailed the sponge up higher, fighting off the smile as he saw Sam's mouth twitching. He would have given anything at that moment to be able to lip read. To know what it was he was trying to say to himself._

_He let out a strangled unintentional noise as his stomach unexpectedly twisted and Sam's attention shot to him again, his forehead creasing._

_"You okay?"_

_He nodded, but his hand dropped the sponge into the water and came to rest on his abdomen instead, an odd feeling settling within it. That wasn't supposed to happen, not when he was just starting to have some fun._

_"Lay back. It will help with the nausea."_

_He did not want to lay back, he wanted to continue with ... what ever it was he was doing. His body apparently wasn't having any of it though and he quickly found himself cursing.The lightheadedness Sam had told him was associated with passing out, returning._  

_Reluctantly, he did as Sam suggested, scowling._

_He supposed it was just another thing he was going to have to add to his 'to do' list._

_“May I ask you a question?” He asked, turning to his head to face the hunter once the wave had passed._

_“You just did.” Sam joked but quickly continued with a more serious tone when he took in the angel’s expression. “Of course you can, you know you know you can ask me anything.”,_

_He reached down, taking the sponge from the surface and moving it up to wipe across Cas' shoulders. He squeezed it as he did, so water dribbled down them. If the angel didn't have the strength to continue himself, at least what was left was on higher ground._

_“The feeling of dirt on your skin is unpleasant.” He started and Sam nodded encouragingly, his attention moving from what he was doing, to Cas’ face again. “Despite the fact it has now been removed, I can still feel it there. Like an itch.” Again Sam nodded, frowning a little this time, not understanding whether that was supposed to be the question._

_“That’s not unusual.” He replied when Castiel was silent for a moment, wondering if he was waiting for him to say something in response._

_“Is that how you feel?_ _When you say you’re not clean? "_

 _Sam’s eyes widened, his hand pausing in its movements along Cas' chest._ _Having demon blood was a thing Bobby and Dean had come to accept, but they had never once asked him to describe how it felt. No one had. He never expected to have to find the words to do it either._

_He sucked in a breathe as he regarded the angel carefully. Did he really want to know? Or was it just the babblings of someone not in their right frame of mind. Would he even remember he had asked, if he just stayed silent?_

_He would have tested that theory if it wasn't for the intense look falling on Castiel's face. The look which just said, he would wait forever if need be._

_So slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s actually a really good way of describing it. I could scrub myself raw and would still feel dirty, because it's… there. No amount of soap can ever wash it away.”_

_He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, while Castiel thought about his response. There were times he had forgotten about the blood on his skin, since he had carried the Winchesters to the Impala and times he could think of nothing else. Was that what it was like for Sam? Were there times he would just forget? Where his mind would be too distracted to focus on it? Where it would hit him harder than the archangels ever could when he remembered? Or did he feel it all the time? Could he feel it moving around his body?  Twisting through his veins as he spoke to Castiel. Or was it just something that was in his mind. Crawling for control but having no real impact?_

_“But you wish you could?"_

_He wanted to know, he wanted to understand all of what Sam went through._

_The hunter frowned, to him it almost sounded like a trick question. Of course he did. He wanted nothing more. “I wish it was never there in the first place, but yeah.”_

_Castiel looked back down into the water, staring at it's slightly different colour. It was pure before, but all it took was his touch for that to change. It was a strange feeling.  He looked back to Sam, beginning to realise just how he felt about himself.  He had known for a while of course, but knowing and understanding that feeling, were two completely different things._ _Before all of this, he would never have even begun to realise that._

_Sam presumed that was the end of the conversation and made to grab some shampoo, but Castiel chose to speak again before his hand could grip the bottle._

_“I don’t.” He said simply, a pained sensation erupting in his gut, as he watched Sam being visibly taken aback by his comment. His head jolting as he furrowed his brow. “You wouldn’t be you.” He clarified, copying Sam’s earlier reaction by shrugging one of his shoulders._

_“I’d be clean?” Sam replied, his body tense.” Normal, I wouldn’t be an abomination, I would be-” Worthy of you._

_“Dead, Or as good as.” Castiel interrupted, his expression showing he had no doubts in his statement. Sam looked even more confused than before and Castiel found himself sinking further down into the water. He didn’t have the energy to argue about this.“With or without the demon blood, you would still be Lucifer's true vessel.”_

_Sam swallowed hard, his eyes guarded. Off all the people, he would have thought Castiel would have been the first on the list for removing this thing from him. He’s seen the darkness in his soul, even if it made it shine brighter, or what ever it was he had said, it was still there. Why would he not want it gone, given the opportunity?_

_“I know that,  but I don’t understand how-”_

_Castiel turned his head, cutting Sam off with just a look._

_“Without Azazel feeding you his blood, Mary would not have been killed and John would never have raised you as hunters.” He explained. He had thought the repercussions of that would have been obvious._

_“And that’s a bad thing?” Sam asked, drawing himself back. That was something Dean dreamed off, something he would have done anything for. A normal happy family, no demon hunts, no growing up in rotten motels. No being afraid to let anyone in. Having an actual mom, and a dad who didn’t raise them as soldiers.  It sounded like bliss._

_“Yes Sam. Destiny would have seen to it that a Winchester still went to hell. The seals would still have been broken, perhaps even earlier. And you would never have had the life experience necessary to shape you into the person you are, to keep you from saying yes.”_

_Sam frowned.“You said I am who I am despite the blood?” Did he no longer believe that?_

_“I did and I stand by that.” He paused, bringing a hand to his head. “I apologise. I’m not being clear.The demon blood while a curse, has still helped shape you.” He stopped, twisting his body around awkwardly so he could face Sam head on. “For a long time, we were programmed to believe that was a bad thing, but it’s not entirely. Despite its influence you stayed good, but because of it you found the strength to say no.”_

_“I could still have found it without it.” Sam protested, but his face softened slightly, a small part of him doubting the statement even as he said it. He didn't know what type of person he would be without out all of this. He liked to think he would still help people. Maybe be a lawyer already. But would he? Would he and Dean still have the same bond? Would he have ever met Cas? Would he have run a mile when the devil started knocking on his walls?_

_“Prehaps. And perhaps it is a selfish desire on my part. But I am rather attached to you as you are.” Cas closed his eyes, breathing out slowly now he was sure Sam wasn't insulted by his remark. “You are a rather remarkable human Sam, kind, strong… Stubborn,” He bunched his face up slightly “Tall.”_

_Sam ducked his head, letting out a small laugh._

_“Tall’s a character trait now?” He asked, his eyes shining slightly in amusement. Castiel reopened his, reaching up to either side of the bath to pull himself back into a sitting position. Sam’s hand immediately found its way to his back, hovering barely a centimetre from his skin, offering support if he needed it._

_“No, but it is an attractive one.”_

_Sam’s hand froze and for a moment, he didn’t so much as blink. Castiel turned his head again to look at him questionably, a strange instinct to wave his hand in front of the hunter’s stunned face overtaking him. It was jarring to see his eyes unmoving and he was so sure he choose the right word? His touch was alluring, his features were captivating, his soul hummed with beauty._

_He had considered whether he found Sam physically attractive before, but it was becoming much less of a question to him now._

_He was Sam._

_And he had fallen from heaven right into him._

_“Dude, this fever must really be getting to you.” Sam eventually said, trying to laugh it off, drawing his hand back nervously and running it through his own hair._

_Because really what else could he say to that?_

_Castiel’s squinted and shook his head. "I can assure you my cognitive function has not been affected. You are very attractive Sam. At least, I find you to be.” He couldn't really talk for anyone else._

_Sam’s cheeks flushed even deeper than before. This heartbeat picking up pace._ _“I didn’t think angels, saw people like that?”_

_He cringed even as he said it. There were perhaps a thousand better responses._

_“They’ve never met you.” Cas replied so matter of factly, and if it wasn't for his expression, Sam would have laughed it off again. He didn’t however, he simply stared at him, his mouth parting slightly._ _He could tell the angel wasn’t expecting to hear the same in return. Wasn’t expecting anything from him, other than an acknowledgment he had heard him. That he accepted what he was being told._

_But that was easier said than done._

_Nodding, seemed far too big headed. ‘Yes, you're right, they’ve never set eyes on my stunning good looks.” Thanking him didn’t feel that much better either. He could hardly shake his head, which meant he had to say something… anything?_

_“Cas…”_

_Anything other than just his name._

_The angel gave a small smile, before reaching out and taking hold of the shampoo bottle. “The water’s temperature is dropping, we should finish this."_

_That time Sam allowed himself to nod, a smile erupting on his face as Castiel handed the product to him._

\-------------------

“He wants us to stop looking for him. Said no amulet will ever find him anyway. He doesn’t car- he doesn’t think it's his place to stop the apocalypse.” Sam paused for a moment, trying to gauge Cas’ reaction.“ He won't stop the apocalypse.” He quickly reaffirmed. He may not have liked it, but he needed to be harsh about this. Needed to make sure there was no doubt left. “I’m so sorry Cas. But this isn't the end okay! We will find another way.”

The angel’s expression fell blank. He had prepared himself for unpleasant news, but he hadn’t expected this.And no. No. He refused to believe it to be true. That had to be the agender, that had to be why Rachel had helped them. To get them to Joshua, so they could be told these lies. Michael had obviously gotten them on side. Found a way to suck any hope they had down into the deepest pits of hell.

“Maybe… maybe Joshua was lying.” He said slowly, his face giving nothing away, his eyes almost void of any emotion.

Or maybe it wasn't really Joshua, the Winchesters had no way of telling if an angel was who they said they were. It could have been anyone of his siblings.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t think he was Cas, I’m sorry.”

He would have given his life for that to be the case, to not have to put Cas through this. 

Castiel looked away, slowly moving so his legs dangled over the edge of the couch. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Sam’s attempts to steady him. Once he was standing, he waited till he was sure he would not fall before looking up, his expression tightening. Every piece of anger he ever felt being directed into one single look.

“ You son of a bitch. I believed in…” He muttered, his voice harsh, before he trailed off completely and shook his head.

It was pointless to even address him now.

How could this be happening? How could his father do this to them?

What would happen now? To Sam? To Dean? To the world?

He clenched his hands into fists.

This whole time, this whole time they were wasting hours searching for God, when they could have been doing anything else. And he knew, the bastard knew. Left them to their fate. He told them to love humanity. Then left the humans to burn at the hands of his own children. Created free will, pain and suffering, to what? Allow the angels to make life for the survivors that much harder.

He felt his stomach churn and his blood boil.

He knew what it was like to be human now, knew pain and sickness, loss and grief, knew everything that God was leaving the world to endure.

He created it, created him and now what? He was done?

Ready to stand back and watch everyone suffer?

And he would, if he was on earth, he would be standing and watching the destruction, What kind of God did that?

What kind of anything did that?

He breathed out harshly, his arms almost shaking at his sides.

Sam had gotten up, was now standing beside him, a hesitant hand coming to reach for his shoulder.

He shrugged it off before it even made contact.

He didn’t want comfort.

He wanted a leader who gave a crap, who followed what he preached. So many years he had served him without question. To what end?

“Cas…”

He reached into his pocket, pulling the amulet that belong to Dean out. “Do with this what you will, I don’t need it anymore, it’s worthless.”

He dropped the sting into Sam’s hands and stumbled towards the doorway. He couldn't stay there, he couldn’t sit and look at Sam, knowing the fate he was now being resided too.

All the strength in the world, couldn't fight of Lucifer forever.

It was cruel.

God was cruel.

Maybe he’d always been cruel and he was just too blind to see it.

But he was done now, done seeing him as anything more than what he was.

A coward.

He reached the front door and pulled it open with more force than was strictly necessary.

He couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t be around the people he had failed.

Who his father had failed.

He knew Sam was following him, calling out to him again, but he refused to listen, wanting nothing more than to fly, to inflict copious amounts of damage on what ever he could get his hands on.

"Cas. Stop!"

He couldn't stop.

Not now, not ever.

Not when every fibre in his body wanted him to leave, to escape. To get him as far away from Bobby's as possible.

God had left them.

And now, Lucifer was going to win.

The world was going to come to an end.

Sam was going to cease to exist.

And he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Don't read with anyone possibly being able to read over your shoulder*

Five days, five fricken days. Thats how long it had been since Sam had last seen Cas. His great idea to let the angel lash out at scrap metal for a bit before trying to talk to him again, had turned out to be the worst one yet. Dean had almost howled when Jody came by  a few hours later to tell them he had been seen hijacking a car.

A bloody car.

If Sam wasn’t going to hell already, he was sure God would have beaten him down there with a hammer for that one. Drinking demon blood was one thing, corrupting an angel in such a way was a whole other story.

“Hey. It’s me again, just call me back okay?”

He had left message after message for the angel, but so far he was having no luck with them being returned. He just wanted to know that he was alright, that he knew where they were if he wanted to find them. Had Sam gotten his way, they would still have been sat at Bobby’s waiting. Dean however wasn’t quite as patient as him.

“He's got a car to crash in, he’ll be fine.” He had stated. Sam supposed it was supposed to be reassuring, but it had only caused him to wince at his choice of words. Given what had happened with the Impala, that was exactly what he was afraid of. Cas may have been a warrior, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be concerned for his welfare.

With great reluctance he hung up the phone, studying the blank screen for a moment as he contemplated whether to get back to his research. Between Cas, Dean and now this case, it felt like he was almost drowning.

“ _We’re all gonna die, Sam. In like a month—maybe two. It’s going to happen.”_

He shook his head. He knew things were bad, but with every day that passed, Dean seemed to say something else which seriously made him question his state of mind.

The man needed help, he knew that. The problem was Dean had lost all faith in them. Hell, if he was honest, he was fairly certain he had lost all faith in everything. Nothing he said made a blind bit of difference. The apocalypse had gotten to him and God bailing had been the final nail in the coffin.

He saw no reason to fight anymore and Sam didn’t have a clue how to change that.

He turned his hand over, slowly going to put the phone down on the table he sat by. He stopped before it reached the surface however and flipped it back around, his fingers dialing a familiar number of their own accord. Almost as if they were functioning on some sort of autopilot.

As the phone rang, he tore a glance to Dean on the other side of the room. He was sat going through books on the couch, a hard, yet almost vacant look on his face as he roughly turned the pages. Each movement seemed forced, robotic and Sam’s chest tightened uncomfortably the more he watched.

Despite filling his brother in on Cas’ theory, things between them were no better. He didn’t believe  a word of it, thought it was just another point to add to Sam’s list of lies. There was like a cloud that hung over him, weighing him down. Sometimes he tried to hide it, sometimes he tried to be normal. But there was something missing from behind his eyes. He was going through the motions, but he was simply existing, rather than living. Seemingly biding his time until the day it all ended and he could just roll over.

This morning, was becoming something of a pattern. He was making more and more comments as the days went by. Comments that terrified the life out of Sam. Left him wondering what would happen if he left him alone. So he went to the bars with him, followed him to the toilets, took what ever was thrown at him, in the hopes that his presence would at least stop him going down the path of self destruction.

Would at least stop him from giving Michael that yes.

“For the millionth time Sam, no, he’s not turned up here. Stop-”

He hung up without a word before Bobby could even finish his sentence. That wasn’t why he called. At least not this time, but he couldn’t bring himself to vocalize his thoughts. Dean looked up to Bobby, he wouldn’t want him knowing about this. Not when it was only temporary, not when Sam was going to find away to bring him out of it.

He cleared his throat, hoping it would be enough to make Dean look at him. It wasn’t.  His stare was empty and he was nursing his fourth bottle of beer, despite not taking a sip of it in over twenty minutes. He was too far into his head, being submerged in his own thoughts.  

“Dean, any luck?” Green eyes turned to bore into his and Sam’s blood ran cold at the sight of them. It took a moment for any signs of recognition to appear and even when they did, the younger Winchester, couldn’t shake the feeling Dean wasn’t completely there with him.

“No.” Dean said after a strangled pause. His hand finding its way to the corners, then to the back of the book as he slammed it shut. “There’s nothing in here.” Sam doubted he had even a read a single word to actually know that for certain. Before he could say anything however, Dean pushed himself to his feet, abandoning his drink on the coffee table. “I gotta clear my head.”

“It will be past curfew soon.” Sam immediately protested, sitting up straighter in his seat, but Dean simply shrugged and walked towards the door without sparing him  a second glance.

Sam’s eyes fell to his phone, then to the books in front of him.  He didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be following his brother around like a little lost sheep. There was still so much to do, they were clueless as to what was happening in this town. Clueless as to why there were so many demons congregating and clueless as to whether Leah Gideon really was a profit. There was still some numbers he could try, to try and reach Cas and he was fairly certain he was going to have to go over everything Dean had claimed to have read that night.

The tapping of shoes drew his attention back to his brother, who was by now reaching for the door knob. Cursing under his breathe, he ran a hand threw his hair and scraped his chair back across the wooden floor.

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t risk it.

“Hold up- I’ll come with, maybe we can talk to Paul again.”

He knew he was being ridiculous, that at some point he had to trust Dean, but he hadn’t snapped at him to leave him alone yet. That in itself, was enough to sound off the alarm bells. It meant he needed Sam with him, that perhaps he was as afraid of what he would do, should he find himself alone, as his little brother was.

He slipped his phone into his pocket as they headed out into the cold night, sparing a single glance up at the stars as they shifted along the path. It was hard to believe the world was basically coming to an end, when you were greeted with a sky like that. There were no falling meteors, no sounds indicating they were in the midst of war.

It was just a normal, peaceful night.

He looked down at the eerily empty streets as Dean made his way to the tavern.

Okay, so who was he kidding? There was nothing normal about any of it.

\--------------------------------------

Slamming the door to their motel room closed, Sam stumbled, along with his brother, inside, his jaw locking in anger as he tried once again to make him show any type of emotion.

“Don’t you get it? They’re turning this place into some kind of fundamentalist compound.” What the bartender had told them, had made him feel sick. It was like something out of one of those end of the world films which somehow made their way onto the TV. Everything people had predicted, was basically coming true. By the end of it there would be nothing left. There would be no such thing as free will, just a bunch of mindless zombies to afraid to even sneeze.

“No, I get it.” Dean replied, shrugging as he took of his jacket, his face as unreadable as before. Sam shook his head. It had been the same all night. He reached a hand up, rubbing at the back of his neck as he desperately tried to search his brother’s face for any sign that it was all a front.  “I get it. I just don’t care.”

Sam almost visibly took a step back, as every muscle in his body tightened. He hadn’t just said that right? “What?”

“What difference does it make?” Dean continued, reaching into the fridge to pull out the beers he had stashed in there earlier. He pulled back the tag as Sam simply stared at him, taking a swig and almost downing it in one go.

“It makes a hell of a—” Sam stopped, swallowing hard and clenching his fists at his side. This couldn’t be happening. Hunting was all they knew, since when did his brother sit back and allow people to be killed? “At what point does this become too far for you? Stoning? Poisoned Kool-Aid? The angels are toying with these people!”

The older Winchester shrugged again, this time looking up dead into his brother’s eyes. “Angel world, angel rules, man.”

Sam could barely bring himself to respond as he felt his heart beat wildly against his chest. “And since when is that okay with you? “

Because it certainly wasn’t with him.

“Since the angels’ got the only lifeboats on the Titanic. I mean, who exactly is supposed to come along and save these people? We certainly can’t.” They were powerless to stop anything. Even God had given up on the world, what was the point of them fighting to save it, to save anyone when the grand plan was just going to end in death anyway.

They were just prolonging the inevitable.

And he was sick of it.

“So what? You wanna, you wanna just stop fighting, roll over?” The words were practically choked out of his mouth as he tried his best to keep his breathing even. It was one thing to suspect it, to worry about it. To obsess over it.

To hear Dean say it however, was a whole different ball game. It made things real. It made things dangerous.

“I don’t know, maybe. “

“Don’t say that.”  He had to be kidding. He just had to be. This was some horrible horrible nightmare and he would wake up from it soon. He almost felt like congratulating Lucifer, because yeah, he had finally  found one that worked. Despite all the torture, all the pain, all the promises…. Nothing, nothing was worse than the sheer panic which was now running through him right now.

“Why not?” Dean asked, though he didn’t particularly look like he was searching for an answer.

Sam felt like screaming. Was it not obvious? He could not do this without him. He could not fight of Lucifer, save the world and right the mistakes they had all made, without his brother by his side. He was his hero, his rock, he could not be rolling over now. “Cause you can’t do this.”

_You can’t do this to me._

“Actually,” Dean replied, placing the beer back onto the counter. “ I can.”

Sam shook his head, he wouldn’t let him, he wouldn’t let this be the end.

“No you can’t. You can’t do this.” His arm shook and he stumbled back a step, his hair falling into his face.

This couldn’t be happening.

He was the one who was supposed to break. Not Dean. Never Dean.

“I’m going to bed.” The older hunter kept his expression void, any emotion he was feeling, locked deep behind his eyes as he turned away and headed out of the room.

Sam opened his mouth to say something. Then closed it again all too quickly.

He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know what to do.

He couldn’t do this without him. He just couldn’t.

“Dean…”

The man unsurprisingly didn’t respond.

\----------------------------

Listening to Dean’s snores from the bedroom, Sam finally allowed himself to sit down on the old couch, pulling the lore books towards him. He ran his hand through his hair and simply blinked in exhaustion as he looked down at the sheer amount of text he had to work through.

For perhaps the hundredth time since they had returned from the heavens, Sam found himself internally shouting out every curse word he knew and directing it to one .... thing in particular.

The man who did not deserve to call himself a God.

Dean had literally been to hell and back, yet that… creature, was the one to break his brother.

It wasn’t right.

And it wasn’t Dean

He sank back into the chair, rubbing at the corner of his eyes with one hand as he cradled a beer in the other. He was so tired, but there was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. He had  to go through every single page. There had to be something.

This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be Judgement day.

Dean made a noise from the other room and Sam wiped his head around, almost freezing as his body prepared itself to stand. To make sure there wasn’t an archangel in the house. To beg his brother not to do this. To fight just a little bit longer. A little bit harder. For him.

When the snores started up again, he let out a batted breath and dropped back down against the cushions. His head banging purposely into the wall behind him.

This was too much.

He couldn’t do it.

Without even looking, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled Cas’ number.

“Cas…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “We’re in over our heads here. And Dean...I need … I need to know at least one of you are okay,” He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and just holding it for a moment. “Please, you don’t have to come back, but, I-I can’t do this on my own. I can’t - Dean, he’s… Please.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head as he heard what sounded like a rustling of blankets, his body tensing all over again, as he thought the urge to just go and check. To make sure. To camp out in the doorway if that’s what it took.

He rested his head in his hand as everything  fell silent, not even a ticking clock filling the void. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. No way he was ever getting any sleep again. Despite lecturing Cas on how important it was less than a week ago.

He just couldn’t trust his brother would still be here if he ever dared close his eyes again. “Cas…”

He started talking, and he just didn’t stop.

\--------------------

It was well into the next afternoon when a figure stumbled into the room Sam was sat in .“I got your message.”

The hunter jumped, his head darting upwards and shooting around to the source of the voice. His heart beat picking up pace before his eyes even landed on the angel.

_Oh thank fuck._

“It was long your message.”

Castiel seemed to almost stumble forward and Sam found his relief, giving way to confusion.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked carefully, pausing as he watched the man sway forward.” Are you -drunk?” He raised his eyebrows, fighting off a thousand different urges. To run and hug him, to yell, to beg, to thank the souls of the departed that he was alight.

“No.” Cas took a step forward, clinging onto the bars in front of him for balance. Sam raised his eyebrows more. “Yes.”

The hunter spared a quick glance towards the far window as he approached him. Making sure Dean was still stood outside talking to the pastor. He couldn’t risk taking his eye off of him for even a minute anymore.

“Where the hell have you been?” Sam asked, switching his attention momentarily back to Cas.

“It is not of import.” He shrugged, not really knowing the answer himself. He cared as much about a town’s name  as the bee’s he encountered did. He had planned for it to stay that way as well. To drift from place to place with no real purpose. Because, why the hell not? His father had abandoned the world, made the mission he entrusted to his sons obsolete. Why should he care about doing anything, when all that was left was to watch his family tear the world apart. For the trees to turn to ash. For the concept of free will to cease to exist. For him to suffer the loss of two boys that had embedded themselves into his heart.

No, he never planned on discovering a location again.

Except, Sam’s message, the last one, had changed everything.  

He couldn't ignore it, not with that tone in his voice. He still considered himself to be their guardian, whether he had wings or not.

And they needed him.

Sam needed him.

He looked up into the hunter’s eyes, and offered him a small smile.

“I found a liquor store.” He volunteered, as a way of an explanation. He’d listened to everyone of Sam’s messages, wanting nothing more than to call him back, but he had nothing to say. He could not lie to him and tell him he was okay, when he wasn’t. He could not talk to him, hear him asking him to come back to them, and refuse it. So yes, he had taken the coward's way out, tried to ignore him, tried to drink his problems away.

But he couldn’t forget them.

And Sam, wasn’t sleeping, he had to come to him.

He had to help him.

And by god, He’d missed his voice.

He’d especially missed those eyes.

“And....”

“And I drank it.” It was actually kind of refreshing. Surprisingly so. The taste was bitter, alarming to his tongue, but he got used to it. Though the more he drank, the more he had to keep drinking, to keep the numbness there, to keep himself from screaming at the sky, from taking his anger out on anyone who crossed his path… from calling Sam and asking him to come and get him.

He shook his head, it always came back to Sam.

He took a step forward. There was too much distance between them, far too much. He hadn’t seen him for days. He had to get closer, to see every inch of his face, all the little imperfections, the lines and the colour, everything that made Sam, Sam.

The hunter’s arms were grabbing onto his before he knew what was happening,  his body drifting to the side as he lost all balance.

Well, that certainly hadn’t been his intention.

He supposed he should have seen it coming though, with the amount of alcohol in his system.

“Woah easy…” Sam called out, his fingers grasping around his sleeves. “Cas, are you okay?”

The angel looked at him for a moment before indicating with his hand for Sam to come closer. The hunter did as he was told slowly, hesitantly, searching the angel’s face for any clue on what was going on with him.

He leant forward slightly, as Castiel pulled at him, bringing his lips up to his ear.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” He grumbled, before stepping back and allowing a clearly taken aback Sam to move away again. He could not lie to him, he would not lie to him.

But he could not tell him the truth either.

He would not add fuel to his already growing concerns.

“Now tell me what you need.”

\-------------------------

They started of small, working out who could be controlling the demons and who exactly Leah was, if not a prophet. The hunter was rather surprised, that despite Cas’ condition, he still listened intently to everything he had to say. He sat next to Sam on the couch, going through his research with great care, his trench coat firmly back in place.

Their knees rested against each other at one point and Sam had to stop himself from asking for more.

He was so tired and Dean was- He jumped to his feet unexpectedly, looking around the room in a panic.  He couldn’t remember when he had last seen him, when he had last heard from him. It could have been hours, he could be sat somewhere stewing, considering…

“Sam.” A hand rested on his shoulder, drawing him back around to the face the person it belonged to. “Is Dean really that high of a concern?”

He wanted to say no, he wanted to say he was being overly cautious and Dean was just having a bad day. But he couldn’t bring himself too. It wasn’t just a bad day, it was a bad week. Hell, it could have been a bad month for all he knew and he had only just taken notice.

He supposed his face said it all because Cas dropped his hand and looked away. “Damn it.”

Sam snorted, though he didn’t mean to. It just kind of summed his feelings up on the subject completely and he needed some sort of outlet. A release from the stress that was building.

“I, don’t know what to do.” He eventually admitted, sobering up, his eyes desperately searching the windows for signs of his brother.

Cas followed his gaze. “You keep fighting, prove him wrong.”

“Does that mean you think we still have a shot?” Sam asked, his forehead creasing. His actions kind of said otherwise.

Castiel looked back to him, rubbing his lips together as he contemplated an answer.

“If anyone can get the world through this, it’s the Winchesters.” He stated, his eyes drifting, contemplating whether that could truly be the case. Whether, despite his father's abandonment, they could still win this?

“That your way of sitting on the fense?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, stilling them and looking directly back at Sam.“There is no fense in here.”

“No I know, I just mean… God… I missed you,” The word slipped out before he could stop himself and he immediately froze, sparing a single glance towards the angel. Castiel closed his eyes,  before opening them again and brushing it aside.

Sam meant more to him then God did now. The word should not faze him.

It was a name, a phase humans used. It held no other meaning.

Except it did, it really did and it produced an anger within him he was not yet in control of.

“The feeling is mutual I can assure you.” He took a step forward closing the gap between them and reaching out to run his hand slightly down Sam’s arm, ignoring the desire to do some serious damage to nearest object. “And your brother entered the Tavern a little while ago, there is no reason to be alarmed.”

Sam nodded , only wishing he could believe that as his eyes followed the trail Cas was making.

He would have done anything to have more of it. For things to just be that simple.

“We should…” He indicated back to the pile with his head and Castiel soon nodded, dropping his arm.

“...Focus on killing the whore.” He finished for him, earning himself an amused look from the hunter. Castiel eyed him suspiciously for a moment before rolling his eyes. “The whore of babylon.” He clarified, reaching for a book and twisting it around for Sam to see.

\-----------------------------------

“Dean how did you do it?”

Castiel eyed the brothers suspiciously as he watched the conflicting emotions flash across Sam’s face. He understood the younger Winchesters confusion, he himself had only just said neither Sam or Dean possessed the quality necessary to kill Leah. Yet that was exactly what Dean had just done.

“What?” Dean asked, barely sparing a glance to his brother as he helped the injured pastor into their motel room.  Castiel narrowed his eyes more, while reading people was never his specialty, he liked to think he was getting better at it. There was just something in Dean’s tone which suggested he knew something they didn’t and he didn’t like it.

If Sam’s expression was anything to go by, he didn’t either.

“Kill her? Last I checked, she could only be ganked by a servant of Heaven.” And Castiel had made it quite clear neither of them were that. Sam rubbed his tongue along the roof of his mouth, his concern kicking up a gear again. There was something going on inside his brother’s head and he had a horrible feeling he knew exactly why Dean was now worthy of that title.

Dean shrugged, his face giving absolutely nothing away. “Well, what do you want me to tell you? I saw a shot. I went for it.”

His voice was steady, certain, not even a hint of a lie rested within it, but Dean lied for a living. They both did and as their eyes locked, Sam knew he had every reason to be worried. He hadn’t just given up anymore, he’d accepted their fate. Accepted that there was just no turning back.

Dean looked away.

“Look you two should get some sleep. Don’t think I haven't notice your sudden vigilant watch over me.”

It was Sam’s turn to shrug but Castiel found himself frowning as the hunters throat constricted and he swallowed a lump. It was not nearly as nonchalant as he had perhaps hoped for. “Can you blame me?”

Something had changed, in that millisecond, something had confirmed his friend’s worst fear. His face said it all, his breathe was shorter, his teeth clenched together, but his eyes gave away that it was not due to anger, but fear.

Dean didn’t reply, he just turned to walk towards the door.

“Where you going?”

Castiel took a step forward, placing a comforting hand on Sam’s arm. He may not have been able to feel his panic in the same way as he used to, but it was practically radiating of him now.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“I’m just gonna grab some clean bandages out of the trunk. Relax. Go to bed, I’ll fix the Pastor up.”

\-----------------------------------

“He’s going to do something stupid. Micheal stupid.” Sam said, straining his ears to try and listen to sounds coming from the other room. He was supposed to be sleeping, he had agreed to sleep, but how could he now? After today?

Castiel pulled his trench coat of, placing it over the railing on the bottom of the bed. He didn’t say a word as he climbed in beside Sam, surprising the younger man as he laid down on his side facing him, rather than on his back as usual.

“You do not know that for sure.”

Sam shook his head. He appreciated what the angel was trying to do, but it pointless.

“I do. It’s why he could kill Leah.”

“There, could be other factors.”

Sam turned, so he was the one lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.“You don’t really believe that.”

Castiel looked away, listening for the sounds himself. No, he guessed he didn’t. There was only one reason that Dean would be considered heavens servant now and it did not bode well for any of them.

“No,”

Sam nodded, his lips pressing tightly together. The second Dean basically told him to leave him alone, he knew without even the smallest shred of doubt, he had made his mind up.

He was unsure before, frightened by his own thoughts, but that was no longer the case. Dean had a plan, or at the very least he was formulating one. Which left them with the question on how the hell they were going to stop him.

He had never considered it, not once since it was revealed Dean was Michael's vessel. It was Dean Winchester they were talking about, a backup plan wasn’t necessary. He would keep saying no, Sam would keep saying no and eventually they would lock the devil back where he belonged.

Not once did he ever think the outcome would be any different.

He lifted his hand and ran it through his hair, breathing out deeply as he tried to force himself to think. There had to still be a way to change his mind. To make him realise the world was still worth fighting for. That they, were still worth fighting for.

Castiel sighed. “You need to sleep Sam, you won’t be any use to him if you can not function.”

He turned his head back to look at the angel. He was right, he knew he was right and he could still hear the voices from the other room, that at least meant he was still here, that he hadn’t abandoned them yet. Pastor Gideon had spoken to him as Dean had gone to the Impala, promised to stick around until the man fell asleep if that's what he wished. He didn't know why, not really, but Sam's face was enough for him to offer anyway.

Castiel was grateful, he had snapped up the offer and guided Sam to bed without giving the man a moment to think it through.

But it did nothing to ease his concern.

How could he trust Dean would still be there when he woke up?

That he wouldn't convince the man to leave and slip out as they were oblivious?

He moved his hand to rest against his forehead causing Castiel to frown.

“Does your head hurt?” He asked, reaching over to stop Sam’s hand from placing a barrier between them.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Sam replied, he was after all the one who had gone on a bender, though he seemed surprisingly sober now.

Castiel didn’t answer, instead he leaned in closer, wrapping his arm around Sam’s waist and propping himself up on his other elbow. As confused eyes watched him, he placed his lips to the man’s temple, keeping his touch soft, barely a tickle against his skin.

When he pulled back, Sam’s nose wrinkled, though Castiel was pleased to note the crinkles in his forehead had relaxed.

“What was that for?” The hunter asked, taking in a deep breath. The angel had the uncanny ability to make him forget how his lungs were supposed to work.

“You were in pain. I was informed kisses ‘make it better’.” Despite the situation Sam couldn’t help the smile that worked its way onto his face.

“By a kids infomercial by any chance?” He joked.

Castiel tilted his head to the side, narrowed eyes looking down into the current hazel ones. “Is it not correct?”

Sam thought about saying no, because in the way Castiel intended at least, it was not the case-  kisses held no physical healing properties. But he was so close, his eyes holding so much compassion, that he just couldn’t force the word from his lips.

Besides, he tried to reason, it had helped. Even if it was just momentarily, it had caused his body to pause. To stop all the thoughts from shooting around his head.

He needed that, he needed a break, for the worry to stop for just a little while.

“No, Yeah it is. Its good.” He closed his eyes. “It helped.”

If he hadn’t have been so exhausted, he may have been able to form proper sentences. Castiel seemed satisfied with that answer however and smiled down at him.

“Okay then.” He leant down again, this time brushing his lips against Sam’s cheek.

One eye instantly popped back open and Sam grinned at the face that stayed hovering above his.

“What was that one for?”

Castiel looked away, his smile growing slightly causing just the tips of his teeth to show through. Sam couldn’t help but stare, it was rare sight on the angel.

“I’m not sure.” He admitted, it was more a desire which caused him to act, rather than any type of logical thinking he could explain. He wanted to do it and he wanted to help Sam calm down. “Was it alright?”

He had kissed him before, but he had left for days, perhaps it was no longer appropriate. Sam didn’t seem angry though, the opposite in fact.

“Cas, you can kiss me anywhere you want and it all always be alright.”

The angel wasn’t sure that was strictly true, but he relaxed at the acceptance anyway, nodding once to show he understood. Sam closed his eyes again, more at ease than he was before, he could still hear his brother and Cas made an incredibly good distraction from the whirlwind that was going on inside his own head.

He was as content as he was going to get for now.

“Even here?” Warm lips touched the side of his jaw, just underneath his ear.

Sam nodded, laughing. “Yes.”

Despite not being able to see, he could still feel the angel’s breath on his face, sense his shadow looming over him, feel the heat coming from his body. He moved his hand to rest it on Cas’ waist, holding him there, not quite wanting the moment to end. For the walls to come crashing down around them and the reality of what they were going to have to face to become the here and now.

“And here?” This time it was on the end of his nose and Sam couldn’t help the laugh that followed. He turned, twisting so he was laying back on his side. Bringing Cas down as he did, so he rested beside him, barely centimetres away.

“Yeah, but the conventional way is good too.”

As Castiel contemplated that, Sam’s hand moved ever so slowly up his side. He slipped it back further around him as he trailed up his ribs, before finally it came to rest at the back of his neck. The angel barely had time to register the touch before Sam was pulling him forwards and joining their lips together. The angle just slightly off so his bottom lip was captured in the middle of Sam’s two.  

It was only intended to last a few seconds, but as Cas took in a sharp intake of breathe, he tightened his arm around the younger man, securing his body against his. He’d missed him and he’d really fucking missed touching him. Granted it hadn’t quite been like this, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

He could smell Sam this close and the scent was something which could imbed itself into his mind for life. There was something about it, which made the angel incredibly grateful he was already lying down, unsure if his legs would have been able to continue to support his weight.

He closed his eyes and gripped at Sam’s shirt, his leg slipping forward to tangle theirs together. Wanting nothing more than every inch of contact he could get.

Sam seemed to take that as welcomed sign to keep going, so he moved his lips slowly, gliding over Cas’ at first. The angel did the same in return, his heart beat picking up pace as Sam’s teeth captured his bottom lip and ran across it, before biting down every so slightly and pulling.

The angel couldn’t help the noise which involuntarily followed. His confusion mounting slightly as he felt Sam smirk against him. Felt his shoulders shake and his cheeks heat up.

The hand on his neck trailed higher, tugging slightly at the ends of his hair. His mouth opened in response and he found himself running his tongue teasingly along Sam’s top lip.

He was pretty sure he could hear more than just one heartbeat, could feel Sam’s pumping wildly through the thin fabric of their t-shirts.

He whimpered as Sam broke away, the man’s hand coming back around to his shoulder to push him onto his back. He certainly didn’t protest the movement as his other arm was freed and he was able to wrap it around Sam’s neck, pulling him down ontop of him.

Their lips crashed together again, this time with more force and Castiel practically found his insides begging for Sam’s teeth to return to his skin. His hands pressing into his back, fingers moving backwards and forwards as if to convey his desire for certain bones to do the same.

Sam seemed to understand what he wanted within seconds, and a  gasp worked its way out as the man used a little bit more force than before, a hand running along his side and squeezing at his hips as he did.

It was a groan that came out next as Sam found exactly the right spot to press against, just as he deepened the kiss. Cas’ hand ran down Sam’s back in response, resting in the dip of his spine and pressing their bodies together. He didn’t want space to exist, he just wanted more, more kissing, more touching, more everything.

It was overwhelming and his body felt all too hot but he certainly didn’t want to cool it down.

Sam, at this point was pretty sure his own heart was going to combust. He could feel the sweat building up on his skin from their shared heat, his top  practically clinging to his stomach. His chest tightening with a level of satisfaction he didn’t know possible, every time a sound left the angels lips.

He hadn’t expected that.

Hadn’t expected the man to be so vocal at something so simple. Though for someone who never experienced those feelings before, he supposed it was to be expected. He did hope that it would be something that never went away though.

It was addicting to hear.

And Cas was just intoxicating.

He pulled away slightly, reluctantly, needing to catch his breath, his shoulders heaving as his lungs once again had to remind him they needed air.

Castiel looked up at him, his eyes darker than he had ever seen then, his grip on him loosening just a fraction.

“I missed you.” He said, his voice coming out raspy. Sam could only just manage to nod his head in response. Because, yeah, the feeling was more than mutual. Though even if that was the result of separation, he didn't think he’d like to put himself through that worry again.

_“Yes! Father! GOODNIGHT.”_

They turned their heads to the closed door in union. Sam frowning at his brother’s tone as Castiel’s eyes narrowed. A door slamming shut reached their ears next, followed by the tell tale signs of someone dropping onto a creaking couch.

“That seemed unnecessarily loud.” Cas commented, looking back to Sam. Though anger at least was Dean showing some sort of emotion. He was taken aback however to see the younger man almost freeze on top of him. “Sam?”

The man’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed red as they bunched up. He tried his hardest to suppress it, but the second he looked down at the angel, his whole body started to shake.

“Sam?” Castiel said again, more in alarm this time, as a forehead found its way to his shoulder and the biggest laugh erupted from the body on top of him.

“Oh…. GOD.” He choked, rolling of off the angel and on to his back, his hands finding their way to cover his mouth, his head banging back against the pillows.

Castiel raised his eyebrow, reaching over cautiously to pat Sam on the shoulder.

“It's okay? I will take first shift.” Because surely now he was worried there was no one to hang around to watch Dean as they slept.

Sam couldn't even bring himself to respond as he shook his head. 

Dean was never going to let him live this one down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that okay? Did it work? I've never written anything like that before XD I'm sorry if it sucked or seemed out of place.


	30. Chapter 30

Castiel glanced towards the clock, watching as the little hand completed yet another full turn. He had promised to wake Sam up over an hour ago now and this was his third attempt at doing just that. He closed his eyes, his breathing falling into synch with the small ticking sound which filled the room. He had given his word, there was no backing out now.

Carefully, he  reached towards the sleeping man’s more exposed shoulder, fully intending to coax him awake. His hand barely moved a few inches before he was pulling it away again sharply. Maneuvering those fingers into a fist at his side instead.

He just couldn’t do it.

A swift curse left his lips.

When had waking a man gotten so difficult?  It was a simple perfectly ordinary task. There was no logical reason for it to be this hard.

And yet, the more he looked at Sam, the harder the concept seemed to become. He just looked so peaceful, so free of the stresses he had held just a few hours earlier. Castiel couldn’t help but notice the redness to his skin was slowly fading too and his death like grip on the pillow had finally eased up. He wasn’t having any nightmares, he was content, in one of the deepest stages of sleep….What kind of monster would he be, if he disturbed him now?

Yes, he was tired too and his head was really starting to hurt, but he just couldn’t act on the request Sam himself had made.

He could not wake him up, not when he had had so little sleep to begin with.

Besides, he tried to reason with himself, he would only be disorientated if he attempted it now, it was better to wait until his REM cycle had passed…

“What have you done to me Sam Winchester?” He mumbled, letting out an exhausted breath as he took a step back. Every time he thought he couldn’t distance himself further from the soldier he used to be, he seemed to be proven wrong. It was like the universe thought he was challenging it or something.

 _‘Or,_ ’ His mind quickly volunteered, and Castiel had to resist the urge to hit himself with the nearest blunt object.  Because there was no way the man could actually be using his residual psychic abilities to read his mind, to choose the most inconvenient of moments to be as endearing as possible….

_Was there?_

As if on cue, the hunter shifted, rubbing sleepily at his face before burying it deeper into the pillows, a whisper of Cas’ own name leaving his lips.

The angel’s next breath caught in his throat as the strangest feeling shot through him. Within miliseconds his  heart sped up and thudded heavily against his rib cage. _He was the reason… he was the reason Sam was so…_ He almost choked, trying to force the air out. Trying to remind himself that his lungs now required him to breathe.

That time, that time he had to have been doing it on purpose.

There was no other explanation for it.

He was reading Cas’ mind and subconsciously trying to turn him into a melted pile of angel ash. What was worse, was he was succeeding too.

_The captivating jackass._

He turned on his heels, refusing to allow himself to reach out and brush the hair out of the man’s face, despite how much he desired too. He knew there were going to be consequences for this, but he would just have to deal with them later.

And maybe insist on Sam wearing a paper bag over his head next time he required him to do something...

He walked back into the other room, folding his arms across his stomach and resting his back against the door frame as he looked to Dean. Who was, unfortunately, still awake.

The small voice popped back up inside his head and the angel had to force himself to quash it. Because it was right, if he still held his grace it would have been so easy to knock  the man right out. Then, he could have laid with Sam and both of them would have been able to reap the benefits of sharing a bed.

He had hoped, with the amount of alcohol Dean was knocking back, that he would have put himself out long ago. But it seemed luck was just not on his side today. He hadn’t even attempted to sleep. He’d just turned the small TV on, kept the volume on low and sat,  sipping at his beer, watching the same cartoon characters flash across the screen.

Every now and then he would grin, chuckle and allow his shoulders to shake, but Castiel had the feeling it was more for show, than him actually expressing any genuine emotion.

“What no Sam? Thought it was time for the old switcharoo?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, that was the first time the man had spoken to him since he had emerged from the bedroom with traces of Sam’s breathe still lingering on his skin. He’d been ready to apologise for not presenting him with a sock, as they had previously discussed, but to his great surprise, Dean didn’t say a word on the matter. Hours later, and he still hadn’t.

He would have been more concerned about this, if it was not for the fact he was grateful for the silence.  He was tired, he felt nauseous and the painkillers had well and truly worn off. The absolute last thing he wanted was to engage with the man about their in bed activities.

“Let me guess, pulled the eyes on you didn’t he?” Dean continued, finally breaking his gaze away from the screen and turning to look at the angel.

“No.” Castiel replied, his expression tight.

_If that had been the case he wouldn’t have even been able to make it out of the room._

The younger man shrugged, his attention travelling back to watch a badly drawn mouse chase after a cat. Castiel couldn’t help but pull a face as a giant hammer was suddenly brought into the equation. He was definitely finding he prefered Sam’s choices of entertainment. At least they made sense.

He leant back further into the wall, unfolding one arm so it could be free to rub at his temples. The flickering lights as the pictures changed definitely weren’t helping his head.

“Well what do know… it’s you!” Dean laughed, pointing to the animation with a cheesy grin on his face.

The angel dropped his hand, his attention slipping momentarily to the screen, watching as the same mouse suddenly had red, plastic, hearts beating away  in place of its eyes. He looked back to the hunter, a scowl firmly in place. “I do not look like that.”

Dean smirked. “You do. Every time Sam walks into a room.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, unfolding his arms completely so he could reach behind him to pull the door to a close. If he wasn’t waking Sam up, he might as well go the whole nine yards and make sure Dean wasn’t either.

\------------------

“I don’t know why you're so against this.”

Castiel glanced to the side, eyeing  the older Winchester as he waited for him to continue. He had moved over to the couch after his legs tired, but being sat next to him just seemed to give the man more of an opportunity to irritate the life out of him. It was now to such an extent he was starting to question whether he was doing it on purpose.  Dean knew he had what human’s described as a ‘hangover’, knew his patience was at an all time low, why else would he continue if it wasn’t to get some sort of reaction out of him?

“Aren’t you tired of fighting this destiny crap? You can’t tell me you believe we are actually going to win?”

Unfortunately for the hunter, he was determined not to give him what he wanted. He just had to sit through this for a little while longer. Just give Sam a few more hours of rest.

Though admittedly,  the lamp in the corner was looking more and more interesting the more he whittled on for. He may not have held his grace, but he was sure he could still get one good swing in...

Dean turned his head, and the angel quickly discarded all traces of that thought pattern.

“What I believe is not important.” He shrugged, meeting the man’s gaze without so much as blinking.

Dean pulled a face. He had long ago stopped laughing, giving up on the facade of everything being okay.

“To hell it isn't. You’ve got the most experience with the archangels. If you told Sam fighting them was pointless, well - he would listen to you.”

The angel narrowed his eyes.  “And why would I want do that?”

A part of him already knew the answer but he refused to acknowledge it. Wanting to hear how far the righteous man had fallen with his own ears.

“Because then this could finally be over!” When Dean received nothing but a hard stare in response, he rolled his eyes and leant forward in his seat, gathering Sam’s laptop up of the coffee table and pulling it open. “ Look man, I could show you right now, how many people are suffering because we’re refusing to play ball.” He clicked some buttons, pulling up a browser full of  news articles. “I mean what are we even doing? Nothing is going to make a blind bit of difference, so why are we prolonging the inevitable?”

Castiel eyed the screen carefully, cataloging each piece of information into the back of his mind. He was sure he had been to some of those places before, even met some of the people. Perhaps that's why Dean had chosen those particular ones to show to him. It all seemed too preempted to him to be a coincidence.

He reached for his glass of water, taking a long sip as he considered the man carefully.

“Because someone once told me to screw destiny.” He replied, raising his eyebrows as he placed the glass back down. That was  the one thing that had stayed with him despite everything  they had been through. “Whether we can win or not, is no longer the point.”

“It's exactly the point! If you don’t think we can stop them, then why are we even sitting here?” Dean questioned, the disbelief evident in his tone. It didn’t make any sense to him.  If Sam was the only one who still thought they had a shot, then why wasn’t he already in Michael's layer? The man was asleep, he could have been long gone by the time he finally woke up. And his brother had Cas now. Cas to keep him sane, to keep him busy, distracted until he said yes and the first steps to ending this war truly began.

They were designed to be the vessels of archangels and there was no point in fighting who they really were. Not any more.

Their trip to heaven had only cemented this.

“Because, Dean.” Castiel said, while rubbing an exasperated hand down his face. “I have been proven wrong before.” About so many things since he had met the Winchesters it wasn’t even funny. “ So who's to say it won't happen again? I am-” He struggled over the word. “Open -to being taken by surprise.”

Dean shook his head. “But you don’t think it's possible?”

“No.” Castiel admitted, not seeing any point in lying to him. “But if we give up now, then we will never know for sure. I can’t live with that.” With knowing he did not try everything in his power to save the people who had come to mean so much to him.

“Well I can, because  I’m telling you now. You don’t know my brother like I do. Satan will wear him to prom - and someone’s got to be there to take him down. We can’t resist our destinies forever.” Dean looked away, picking up his bottle to down the last of the liquid. He wished, by God he wished that wasn’t the case, but wishing would not change anything. Would not make his brother less susceptible to the devil. He had to do this now, when there was still a chance he could make it out alive.

Castiel shook his head, leaning back into the couch and resting it against the damp wall.

“Perhaps not.” He shrugged. “But that does not mean you should give up today.”

He looked pointedly back at the older Winchester, who couldn’t help the sound which escaped his throat. Almost scoffing at the angel.

“So what, you wanna wait until Sam does?” He asked, his top lip curling up slightly as he brought his head in. “ Until Lucifer has barbecued the joint? Do you know how many lives will be lost by then? And it will be too damn late to do anything about it.”

“People are going to die.” Castiel replied, the words coming out colder than he perhaps intended. “ One way or another, but the casualties if either of my brothers win, far outweigh the ones that get caught in this crossfire. The archangels- as you say- will blow the fucking world apart.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, shooting the man a disgruntled look as he slumped back in the seat beside him. They stayed sitting in silence for a moment, both facing forward, before Dean lifted up the remote to switch the tv off.

“If you weren’t fucking my brother, you would take my side on this.” He mumbled, dropping the remote to the floor. He let out a huff of amusement as the back of it broke of, sending the batteries rolling.

“I’m not currently doing anything of the sort. But I can assure you my position with Sam does not affect my answer.” Dean raised his eyebrow at his choice of the word ‘currently’, but said nothing as the angel’s face turned back to him. “If you weren’t so determined to sacrifice yourself, you would see we are just trying to help you. Believe it or not Dean, you matter, the world isn't the only thing I’m trying to save here.”

He pushed back on the armrest, forcing himself to his feet, needing to put a little bit of distance between them. He walked over to the window, staring out at the sky which remained perfectly clear. Cursing once again at his father, who could so easily stop all of this.

Dean kicked the coffee table and Castiel turned to glare at him, grinding his teeth.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

\-----

“I have to urinate.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing over to the angel in suspicion. “Well don’t look at me, I’m not helping you unzip.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but got to his feet again all the same as he tried his best to keep a hold on his bladder. He really had to go, but he wasn’t sure how much he trusted Dean to still be there when he got back. Their conversation earlier didn't exactly fuel him with confidence. If he left him alone for even a moment, there was no telling what he would do.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have drunk so much, but apparently it was the best cure for a hangover and he was really tired of that headache.

He stood motionless for a moment, trying to make a decision as Dean made a show of rubbing his mouth with his hand, yawning deeply behind it and settling down into the couch. It was a good act, he concluded, he genuinely did look like he was about to drop, but Castiel was no fool and Sam had warned him about this.

“Give me your keys.” Dean’s eyes shot up to meet the angels.

“Excuse me?” He asked, not quite believing what he had just heard. He couldn't be serious surely?

“Your ability to hear has not been taken from you. Give them to me. Now.”

Dean looked mildly taken aback and Castiel had to fight of the urge to relish in the accomplishment. He so rarely got to take the man by surprise anymore. He opened his palm and held his hand out, waiting.

“Not a chance. You're not going near baby again.” Dean’s hand immediately travelled to cover the keys which lay in his pocket. Like if he protected them, Castiel would not be able to get to them.

The angel shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn't have time for this.

“I don’t have any desire to drive your vehicle, just to prevent you from doing so.”As Dean opened his mouth to protest again, he was swiftly cut off. "Unless you prefer me to perform the task here?"  

He reached for his empty glass, holding it low, by the waist of his jeans. Raising an eyebrow challengingly, daring the man to push him.

He had no qualms about doing it in public if that was what it took. It was only ever out of a learnt courtesy he even closed bathroom doors.

As Dean scoffed, far from taking his threat seriously, he tilted  his head slightly, and reached for the button of his jeans.

He was not in the mood for these games.

Dean’s face quickly sobered as the material separated.

"Don't even think about it!" He warned, a higher pitch to his tone.

“Then don't make me ask again.” Castiel’s voice was harsh, holding a level of authority to it that the hunter was not entirely used to. His eyes were narrowed, but not in confusion, making his expression appear dark, demanding - like Dean was five years old again and his father was trying to get him to hold his gun properly.

The hunter swallowed, his stance wavering slightly. It was so easy to forget who Cas was, but even without his grace, the air around him almost seemed to crackle with unshed power.

Reluctantly he reached into his pocket and tossed his keys towards the angel, his own features hardening, making a show of expressing his displeasure.

“Get even the slightest drop on them…” He left the rest of the sentence  unsaid, though Castiel looked far from threatened as he headed towards the bathroom.

The hunter waited until the door closed completely, before he reached into his pocket and pulled a second pair out, a small tug of a smile appearing at the corner of his lips. Because yeah, Sam knew the tricks, knew what to warn the angel about,  as he so clearly had. But he seemed to have forgotten Castiel had no idea what one set of car keys looked like compared to another.

He got to his feet, clasping his hand around the jiggling piece of metal. He didn’t once look back as he  headed straight out the front door and down the steps.

He knew they were going to be pissed at him, but they’d get over it when they realised he was right all along. Besides Michael wasn’t getting anything out of him without some assurances that the people he cared for, would make it out of this alive.

He could promise them that.

He raced to the Impala, being careful not to tread on anything which could alert the angel to his location as he passed by the open toilet window.

As he got inside, he placed the keys into the ignition, turning them with one hand as he shifted the gear stick into reverse with the other. He frowned when instead of the engine starting up, it simply chugged. Little sparks trying, but not succeeding in bringing the vehicle to life. He cursed under his breath, hitting the steering wheel with both fists.

Why of all the Goddamn moments it could it choose to play up, did it have to be today?

With more force than was strictly necessary he threw the car door open again and jumped out again.

He pulled the hood up with a scowl on his face, his eyes darting  over the entire engine, hoping beyond anything it was just something simple. A loose wire maybe? Something he could fix in the time it would take Castiel to pee.

He stopped as something caught his eye.

The battery was disconnected?

Pulling  a  confused face, he reached in; if he hurried he would still have enough time to get out of there. The amount of water he had been nonchalantly piling into Cas system should have ensured it would take him a while to finish. He was actually surprised the dude had held out for the long.

He must have had a bladder made of steel.

 _‘Nice try Sammy.’_ He thought to himself as he connected the last of the wires. Because really, who else would have thought to do something like that?

The boy had no originality. He had tried the same thing when they were in high school and their dad had insisted on them leaving town before his school play.

Surprisingly, John had feigned ignorance and hadn’t managed to ‘fix’ the car until after the curtains had drawn to a close at the end of the night.

He must have caught him on a very good day.

He smiled fondly at the memory, reaching up to slam the hood back down.

The kid never did realise.

“Going somewhere?”

He almost jumped out of his skin as he suddenly came face to face with his very much awake brother.

“You were sleeping.” He protested, his hand coming up to rub at his chest. There hadn’t been even a flicker of movement from that room all night. How had he such impeccable timing?

Sam nodded, his hands reaching into either side of his pockets.

“Well then, isn't it lucky your not so many squeak woke me up.” Dean glared up at him.

“I did not squeak.” He replied, insulted by the very suggestion.

Sam raised his eyebrows, a small half hearted smirk, making its way onto his face. “Oh believe me, you did.”

Dean turned away, securing the bonnet back down.

“Get out of my way Sam.” He said quietly, taking a step to go around the other hunter.

Sam automatically took a step to the right, blocking his path. His hands still firmly in his pocket as a strange, almost remorseful expression fell onto his face. “No.”

Dean raised his arms, fully intending to push his brother out of the way by sheer force. He gripped at the man’s shoulders and was just about to put his weight around it, when Sam’s hands finally broke free. Before Dean even had time to react, one hand was cupping the back of his head as the other held a rag firmly underneath his nose.

“I really didn’t want to have to do this.”

He didn’t even have to smell it, to know what it was.

Chloroform.

His feet gave way seconds later and he just about felt Sam’s arms wrap around him, catching him, before he blacked out completely.

If it was under any other circumstances, he would have felt a strange sense of pride of how flawlessly the man had carried that out.

\----------------------------

“He's going to pissed.” Castiel stated as he grabbed hold of Dean’s legs and helped Sam lift him into the back seats of the Impala. Unsurprisingly, it was actually a lot easier to get a body in there when there were two people doing the lifting.

“Oh you can guarantee it.” He replied, placing one of the pillows from the motel room underneath Dean’s head. He was under no illusion about that, but they didn’t really have much of a choice. He wasn’t letting him say yes and this was the only way to stop him.  He was just relieved he thought to tamper with the car earlier, who knows where he could have been if he didn’t.

He closed the back door once he was sure Dean would be comfortable and made his way around to the driver’s seat. He got inside and immediately had to push the chair back a few notches to give his legs some more room.

“Will that substance where off before we reach Bobby's?” The angel asked, taking a seat beside him, his attention turning to look at the sleeping Winchester. He had to hand it to humans, they really were inventive little creatures. While he had only ever been semi impressed with their woodwork, their manipulation of chemicals to suit their own purpose really was something to be admired.

“Probably, but aside from jumping out of the back window there's not a lot he can do about it.”  Sam switched the ignition on  and started the car, glancing into the rearview mirror as he he reversed the Impala out of the parking lot.

He was going to pay for this. He would end up waking up one morning with no hair in the not so distant future, he just knew it. Pissed, was going to be an understatement. But he was pissed with Dean the first time he locked him in the panic room. Fast forward a year and he understood his actions completely. Hell, he even thanked him for it, thanked that Dean had cared enough to do it. He could only hope when this was over, when Dean decided to fight, that he could recognise Sam only had his best interests at heart too.

“You should get some sleep.” Sam said softly, momentarily turning his attention to the angel.

“Or I could keep you company?” Driving on his own had taught him that actually it could be a pretty lonely journey.

Sam shook his head. “As appealing as that is, you won't be any use to Dean if you don't .”

Castiel nodded, though a small part of him wanted to glare at Sam for using his own words against him. He didn’t however, allowing himself to slip down in the seat slightly and rest his head against the second pillow Sam had ‘borrowed with the full intention of returning at a later date’.

“I'm sorry for not waking you.” He mumbled, letting his eyes slip close, not really wanting to see Sam’s reaction.

Despite this, the younger Winchester shrugged, flipping the indicator on so he could head down onto the highway.

“I get it.” He said, sparing a glance to the angel rather uncomfortably. Not because he was lying, because he  did get it, he really did. It would make him an ass to be mad at someone who was just concerned for his welfare. Still that didn’t mean he was completely okay with it.

“You're not annoyed?” Castiel’s voice held a level of suspicion to it, as if he felt Sam was playing some sort of game with him.

This time, the hunter shook his head.

“No.. Not really...I know why you didn't…” He cleared his throat, glancing awkwardly towards the angel who by now had reopened one of his eyes. “But urr... I really need you not to do it again... If I hadn't woken up…”

Just the thought made him shudder, Dean could have been saying anything to the heavens right now, too far away for them to stop him.

“We may have lost him. I understand Sam.” He nodded, his lips tight, his expression as serious as Sam had ever seen. There was fine line between doing what was best for someone and making a bad situation worse. He realised that now.

He looked over his shoulder to Dean, biting down on his jaw as the most strained feeling rose in his chest.

His father was responsible for that. For the state he was in. The angels had taken Sam’s belief in them and now God had taken Dean’s in everyone else.

It was a joke, a sick, cruel joke and one he had willingly taken part in. He’d helped manipulate situation after situation, to put them on this path. If he had only acted sooner, realised the brute he was serving  cared so little for the worlds he created,  then maybe things could have been different.

Maybe they would have stood a chance.

He turned to look back out of the window, his whole posture stiff as he glanced towards the sky. His lips pressed so tightly together, he could almost feel the blood vessels burst. He narrowed his eyes, practically screaming out words, begging his father's ears to pick up on just one. To hear how he really felt.

To hear what a useless, nostril offending barbarian, he really was.

He hit his head against the glass.

He made one decision tonight, which had nearly cost them dearly, but he had made so many more in the past.

When would he ever get it right?

“Cas, are you okay?”

He glanced to the side, his eyes meeting ones filled with obvious concern.

“I’m fine.” He replied, blinking and looking back to the heavens. He promised himself he would not lie to the hunter, but he could not add to his wows. He’d caused enough damage already.

“You don’t look it.” He wasn’t particularly acting like it either. Not that Sam could blame him, he couldn’t exactly expect him to disappear for a few days and be as right as rain on his return. Despite how things had progressed between them earlier. It didn’t change a thing.

“Isn't that what you're supposed say to people anyway?”

“To people, yeah.” Sam shrugged. “But I’m not ‘people’ I’m your-” He paused, not knowing how to finish that sentence. They had had this conversation before, about not labelling themselves. Which was all well and good, apart from it left Sam mulling over what words he could and couldn’t use. “- I care about you. Alot. I hope you know you never have to pretend with me. I may not be able to help, but I’m always here if you want someone to listen.”

“The only one I want to listen, switched his ears off a long time ago.” Sam looked down, before his attention drifted back to the road ahead of them.  Even though a part of him knew Cas wasn’t intending it to come across harshly, the comment still stung. Rather more than he cared to admit.“But- thank you, Sam. I- Appreciate it.”

The hunter nodded, flashing the angel a soft smile as he watched him close his eyes again, this time giving in to his body's desire to rest.

\-------------

Sam fought of a yawn, blinking rapidly to try and keep himself awake and driving. Castiel had been asleep for hours now and Dean was still out for the count. He was starting to worry he’d doused the rag with a little too much chloroform. Surprisingly enough there wasn’t a guide on how much of the stuff to use while kidnapping someone.

He supposed he should be grateful, at least it was sparing him from having a severely pissed Dean Winchester in the back seats.

That wouldn’t have been fun for any of them.

He reached out, flicking the radio back on, but keeping the volume as low as he could manage.

As he reached up, to cover up another yawn, Castiel’s eyes shot open and he gasped out, jolting in his seat. A panicked, desperate sound leaving his lips, as his hands came up to grip at his chest.

Sam jumped, his attention switching to him in an instant, before diverting back to the road as he had to take a sharp turn to avoid hitting oncoming traffic.

“What the hell?” He called out, as cars beeped their horns at him and he had to constantly switch his attention from the angel to the road and back again. “Cas???”

“Something's wrong.” The man replied, his eyes darting to the left, then the right, before settling out of the window. Searching for something, anything to explain the terror running through his body.

“With you? Are you hurt? In- in pain? What can I-”

Castiel held his hand up, cutting Sam’s questions off. He took a moment, to take in a large intake of air, before turning to face the hunter.

“No.” He replied, though he looked far from certain over his own answer. “Nothing is wrong with me.” He tried again, with a little bit more belief behind it when he was met with nothing but concerned eyes.

“Then what?” Sam questioned, the hairs on his neck sticking up on end, he had never seen the angel react like that over anything before.

Castiel just shook his head, not understanding himself. He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the cloudy sky, almost like he was trying to see past what a human was capable of.

Sam pulled to a stop in a layby as the silence stretched on, turning his body to face the angel as he reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm. His forehead creased as he looked him up and down. He didn’t seem hurt, physically at least, just on edge. Like his whole body was expecting the world to crash down around them.

“Cas?” He prompted again, trying to get him to say something, anything to explain what had just happened. Perhaps it was just a nightmare? He hoped it was just a nightmare. Though his sleep did not seem restless.

The angel turned to meet his gaze, his eyes shining with his own confusion.

“Something has happened.” He stated, licking at his lips as he tried to process what he felt. He did not hold a connection to heaven in the same way he used to. His grace was not cut out of him though, it was still tied to the others even if he could not access any strength or power from it. But what that meant in connection to what he felt, he did not know. There was like this mental block, preventing him from horning in on anything. Something had to have happened, something that was so huge, so powerful, _so wrong_ that it triggered something inside of him, set all his senses on high alert. His nostrils flared as they tried desperately to pick up on the scents around him, a clue in the air particles. His eyes strained, his hearing amplified, listening for even the slightest traces of a voice. His taste buds opened, his nerves stuck up on end… it was like his angelic essence was fighting back against its human binds. Trying desperately to overpower what he was now physically capable of. A need for an answer, a connection, a warning, filling every aspect of his mind.

All too quickly the feelings vanished, and Cas was left, simply staring at Sam blankly. A black hole filling his gut as his grace deflated again.

“With the angels you mean?” Sam asked, and Castiel just about managed to nod. “Like what? I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off, not wanting to insult him in some way. To remind him of what he had lost.

Castiel bit at his top lip, glancing out of the front windshield and up towards the heavens.

“I can’t, not usually.” He paused, exhaling hard, trying to find a way to put it into words that Sam would understand. “ Whatever it is… it's bad. Something heaven itself is protesting.”

“As in the souls up there?”

“Yes...No, heaven as a construct, as our source.” He pulled a face, knowing he wasn’t being clear, knowing that Sam wasn’t following but having no other way to explain it to him.

Sam raised his eyebrows but brushed his confusion aside, deciding to just go with it for now. “But what Michael and Lucifer are doing… heaven hasn’t protested anything before has it?”

Castiel shook his head.“No.”

A shiver ran down Sam’s spine as he watched the colour drain from his friend’s face. All the possible scenarios which could be happening up there, running through his mind.

“Then what have they done to provoke that reaction?”

Castiel’s eyes snapped to meet his as he swallowed hard.

“Exactly.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes, I started this story two weeks of a year ago! How crazy is that. It was never supposed to be this long i swear haha


	31. Chapter 31

Castiel could vaguely hear Bobby talking to Dean, but he paid little attention to the details as he marched out of the room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Sleep hadn't improved his tolerance for the man as he had anticipated. In fact it had only served to make him angrier and he was rapidly finding himself loathing every aspect of who the hunter was turning himself into.

How could Dean Winchester, the very same person who had fought so hard for Castiel to do what was right, suddenly be so willing to submit? Willing to watch humanity sacrifice the one thing they should treasure the most? He never believed in God riding in to save them, he had said it time and time again. Learning he wouldn’t help them should not have been a surprise to him. Should not have affected him in this way. It was starting to feel like the whole rebellion, the outrage, the determination to put the angels down, was all just a bunch of lies. Engineered to allow him to kill some time until HE decided he was ready to watch the world burn.

It made Castiel feel sick. With rage cutting through so deep, he was afraid his blood vessels would burst.

Free will was a concept humans were used to, something they took for granted. Dean may have been willing to give that up in exchange for more lives, but he had never experienced the alternative. He had never lived for millenniums as a soldier, without the option of choice. If he had, he would never have even contemplated surrendering.

Castiel could not go back to that lifestyle, he just couldn’t and there was no way some primitive fool was going to force him to either.

He stopped walking, a figure sat near the bottom of the staircase catching his attention. He was hunched over, his head in his hands, sat half in the shadows as he listened to the commotion going on just a few feet away.

Castiel bit at his lip, trying to decide whether he should just slip by the hunter undetected. His anger, was his issue to deal with, not Sam’s. He didn’t need to bother him with it unnecessarily.

“Yeah well why don’t you just let me get out of your hair then?” Dean sniped, loud enough for them all to hear.

He grimaced, his eyes squeezing shut, his insides flaring up in response. He locked his jaw, the muscles shaking under the strain he placed them under. He wanted nothing, nothing more at that very moment than to spin on the spot and lunge at the man. To feel his bones crack underneath his touch.

If he went for the legs, then they wouldn’t have to worry for weeks about him leaving the second their backs were turned. A fist may not have held the strength to do it, but there were plenty of crow bars scattered around the place...

He turned his head, his eyes opening as the feeling intensified, looking around to see if there was a weapon in reach.

He had it coming. He so had it coming.

“Dean’s driving you crazy too huh?” Sam said softly, causing Castiel’s eyes to snap to him, cutting his thoughts of with a bang. He hadn’t realised the man had heard him approach. He swallowed hard, the reality of what he was considering doing, knocking him for six.

“I want to hit him.” He hissed, unaware he was even saying the words out loud. His face twitched as he realised and he headed over to the younger Winchester. Gripping hold of the the banisters with one of his hands. “Repetitively.”

Sam snorted, lifting his head up to look at him through curtains of hair. His smile vanished however when he caught sight of the angel’s expression.

“Oh… you're serious?” He brushed the bangs out of the way, his eyes widening in mild surprise. He supposed he couldn’t blame him for finally having had enough- Dean was doing everything in his power to alienate himself from them all. His comment to Bobby about him not being their father, had caused even Sam to leave the room. Even though he knew he was only saying these things to hurt them,  it didn’t make them any easier to digest.

His verbal assault on the older hunter hadn’t been his first since he had regained consciousness. He had started off on him.

_You’re too angry,_

_You’re self-righteous,_

_You're not strong enough._

_I just don’t believe in you._

The list went on and on and with each one, it felt like a physical blow to his chest.

He could only imagine what was eventually spat at the angel too.

“Yes.” Castiel tightened his fist, toying with it. A slight tremble in his arm as he struggled to keep himself under control. There was no going back now, no more hiding it away. With that one word, Sam would realise everything. He dropped his eyes to the ground as Dean spoke again and pressed his lips together. At first glance, Sam would have put it down to him being ashamed, but the way his gaze slipped to the side, eyeing the entrance to the study seconds later, told an entirely different story.  One that made the hunter more nervous than he cared to admit.

Cas’ anger may have been contained, but it was on the verge of breaking out and if that happened he had a horrible feeling nothing would prepare them for the consequences.

“I, gave up, everything, and he-” Cas cut himself off, shaking his head. His voice being forced to exit his mouth through clenched teeth.  He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words. Just the sound of Dean’s voice now being enough to grate on every single nerve he possessed. “I am going to hit him if you do not stop me.”

He needed to be told a reason not to do it, because right at that moment, he was seriously struggling to find one on his own. Dean hadn’t just given up, he’d stopped caring, hiding behind the pretence that he was doing it for the sake of others, when all Castiel could see, was him making excuses to take the easy way out.

For a moment, Sam remained perfectly still, a flash of worry passing over his features. He’d seen Cas fight before, he may not have been the most graceful, but he was strong, quick, ruthless. If he lost control of himself, for even a second, he didn’t want to think about the damage he could cause.

Or the state his brother, or anyone else, would be in at the end of it.

He knew he was angry, he couldn’t blame him, he was just as furious about what was going on, but he hadn’t realised it was to this extent. He hadn’t realised how close the angel was getting to tipping over the edge. Perhaps he could have handled one at a time. But he had barely begun to process God abandoning him before Dean had dropped his bombshell on them.

It was no wonder he was struggling.

Castiel looked back up at him slowly, his eyes darkening with every word they heard.

“You. Need. To. Stop. Me.”

Sam nodded, getting to his feet, reaching out his hand and cautiously prising Castiel’s death like grip off of the wooden rails. Instead of letting his arm drop to his side however, he kept his hold, running his fingers over the top of Castiel’s knuckles, trying to encourage him to loosen his fist.

“I can do that. Let’s go take a walk, yeah?”

He tugged gently at his hand as he stepped down the stairs and around the banister, coaxing the man to move alongside him. Castiel let out a staggered breath, before following Sam’s lead and stepping closer to him. Hoping  that his scent would be enough to  prevent him from striding back into that room and allowing his fist to make contact with Dean’s jaw. He could almost hear the gratifying crunch as he shattered the bone, see the blood that would drip from his nose, the bruising which would take forever to fade…

And by God, just the thought of it made him feel good.

He forced his eyes shut, locking his arms, trying to will himself to block it all out. With great difficulty he opened his hand, allowing it to fit better with Sam’s. As they stepped towards the archway, he squeezed, trying to think of all the reasons Sam would not want him to do it.

That one… that one at least helped.

That one kept one leg moving in front of the other.

“Bobby, are you alright to watch Dean if we go get some air?” Sam said, pausing in the entrance to the room the man occupied. Making sure he was only just in view so Castiel would remain behind the wall. It seemed too much like tempting fate to allow him to clasp eyes on the object of his fury.

He found himself frowning slightly as he took in the older hunter, sat at his desk playing with a gun, even going as far as pointing it at his own chin. He glanced to Dean, who was stood leaning against the far wall, looking far from happy but making no attempt to move either.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Dean replied, not breaking eye contact with Bobby for even a second.

Sam ignored him.

“Go. We’re fine, aren’t we Dean?” Bobby tilted his head, raising his eyebrows, just challenging the man to say otherwise. Dean folded his arms  but nodded once all the same, his tongue coming out to lick at his lips.

“Peachy.”

Sam glanced between the two of them, uncertainly, getting the distinct impression he was missing something. When neither of them said anything else, he nodded his head, sucking at the end of his tongue.

“Okay then.”

He had no reason to fear Bobby doing something stupid. Whatever it was that he was picking up on, they would sort it between them. He needed to concentrate on Cas for now. On getting his temper under control.

He glanced to the man, an idea forming in his mind. He turned, maneuvering his hand to try and coax Cas to relax his. To trust himself, even a little.

The angel loosened his grip almost immediately, afraid the movement was because he was simple holding on too tight. Cutting of Sam’s blood circulation.

“Where are we going?” He asked, as Sam started walking again, leading them out of the back door and into the junk yard.

“You’ll see.” Was the only reply he received.

\--------------------

The angel was taken aback when the hunter took a left, slipping in between rows of cars, rather than following Bobby’s somewhat neatly laid paths. They weren’t heading towards the road, he calculated, and certainly weren’t heading deeper into the scrap heap either. Instead, Sam seemed to be taking him to a more overgrown area, out of the way of the cars and bodies and everything else.

They came to a stop as they reached some barbed wire fencing and Sam soon dropped his hand from Cas’ as he made to climb over it. When he was safely on the other side, spike free, he pressed down on the wiring to give the angel a little bit more room and indicated with his head for him to join him on the other side. He had long ago learnt his height gave him a distinct advantage when climbing such things, but other people weren’t always as fortunate.

He watched as Castiel narrowed his eyes, the anger behind them giving away to a flash of uncertainty.

“There’s a gate if you don't want to climb, but this is quicker.”

Sam indicated with his head further down the fence line and Castiel had to strain his eyes to even see a break in the structure.

“No. It's fine.” He quickly copied Sam’s actions, eying the bizarrely shaped pieces of metal carefully as he lifted his leg over. While he was positive they couldn’t do much damage if they were to catch his skin, he didn’t particularly want to find out for sure.

As soon as both feet hit the ground again, he reached out his hand, wanting to resume their contact.

A small smile crept onto Sam’s face as he laced their fingers together. Though he tried to hide it by looking  around the area, taking in a deep breathe as he sniffed at the air. He wasn’t sure if it was practically surprising to him or not, but it still smelt the same, like composting grass. Musky.

It had been so long since he and Dean felt the need to venture down there, he’d almost forgotten how much he used to love the scent. There always seemed to be more to do up in the outbuildings, no time for the uneven banks that Bobby had always referred to as wasteland. Though Sam was sure that was just because he was pissed he couldn’t put it to any use. It was rocky and overgrown and damp, like nature had protested the invasion of broken cars and various corpses by being as inconvenient for burial as possible.

He started walking again as soon as Castiel joined him at his side, heading through the grass and off down the slope. He really hoped more than anything that what he was searching for had survived the various winters left untouched.

Eventually, Castiel started to see the beginnings of a small slanted roof.

He looked to Sam with a frown as they headed towards it and more of the structure came into view. It was small for a  building, made up of mostly wood, though it seemed tall enough for them both to stand inside and move around fairly comfortably.  It was probably used to store old farm equipment. Or perhaps animal feed. Made redundant when the salvage yard opened.

“Sam?” He questioned, his eyes narrowing as the man reached out and unlatched the creaking door.

He didn’t understand what they were doing there.

“The rats better not have got it.” Sam mumbled under his breathe, poking his head around the frame. He grinned when his eyes landed on what he wanted, turning around so Castiel could see his expression too. He didn’t say a word however as he pulled the door open wider, having to balance it against the shack as the the thing nearly fell off its hinges.

Castiel’s nose twitched, his head tilting slightly as he found his confusion deepening even more. He followed the hunter inside however without being asked, his curiosity outweighing everything else.

He was somewhat disappointed to find the room empty. The shelves that were in there, covered in cobwebs rather than holding anything they were fit for. Infact the only thing that seemed to remain was what looked like a large feed sack, suspended from the roof by a single piece of rope.

He glanced up, surprised the rotting log could hold the weight of whatever was inside.

“Sam what is this?”

The hunter disappeared from his sight, causing him to quickly turn to follow the man’s movement. He blinked slowly Sam pulled out a pair of red padded gloves from above the doorway. At least, he thought they were supposed to be red. It was kind of hard to tell, given the layers of dust they were buried under.

Sam simply patted the gloves together, making quick work of brushing the flakes away. Castiel pulled a face as he tried to move away from the particle's path, the back of his throat and nose tickling in response to its presence.

“Exactly what it looks like.” Sam said, as if that explained anything. He walked back towards Cas, reaching for his hands. It was perhaps not the most conventional method of dealing with things, but Cas needed to blow off some steam and what better way was there? Okay the equipment was old but at least his way no one would end up needing a trip to the hospital.

Castiel drew back slightly, but didn’t protest to the movement, watching as the hunter pulled at the elastic openings and placed the old material over his hands. The insides felt torn, full of holes and lumps he wasn’t entirely convinced should be there.

He scrunched his nose up when the smell from them hit him and shot a look to the hunter.

“I don’t understand...Why must I wear these?” He asked, holding his hands up, inspecting the gloves as if they secretly contained some sort of power. Logically they had to right? Otherwise Sam was just putting his hands into itchy containers for no reason.

“They’ll protect your hands.” Sam replied, reaching over to secure a velcro strap on either side of the angel’s wrists.

“Why do they need protecting?” He asked, his face full of suspicion as he lifted his gaze. Sam nodded his head, indicating behind him and the angel turned to face the sack, squinting as he tried to work out what it was supposed to be. Whatever the answer, he was certain it was homemade. There was children drawings along the side, yellow blobs near the top  and endless amounts of words scrawled in two different types of handwriting.

_Yellow eyes must die_

_Moving sucks_

_Skool is for losers_

_John Winchester is a ASS - SAM YOU CAN NOT SAY THAT!_

He frowned, turning to eye Sam carefully. Was he supposed to commenting on their artistic capabilities? Their lack of decent language skills? The impressiveness of that beam still holding? There were many options, but none that made sense to him. None that explained why his hands had to be covered.

He took a gamble.

“Is there a … demon ...hiding in there?”

Sam’s eyebrows drew together and he tucked his chin in,smiling slightly in bewilderment.

“No?...It’s a punching bag?” He replied, stepping towards the object and reaching out to run his hand over the material. Licking his lips as he realised the angel genuinely didn’t know. “Bobby made it when we were left with him one summer. We were having some … issues and he got tired of dealing with it I guess. Got us to take it out on this instead.”

He patted it, smiling half heartedly as he came across a word which had been practically rubbed out. The general idea was they wrote, then they hit - He’d done that one, then spent most of his time tearing into it. His father had been so impressed when he came back from the hunt to see how much Sam’s left hook had improved. If only he knew why. The freak, who couldn’t even stand to see the word when he had wrote it himself. Who had gotten so worked up, he almost dislocated his shoulder trying to remove all traces of it.

Dean had ended up practically carrying him away.

“That does not explain what we are doing here?” Cas said carefully, before dropping his attention back down to the gloves. He moved his fingers, his lip curling up slightly at his complete lack of movement. They seemed wildly impractical, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to hold his angel blade wearing them. Let alone use it. What good was ‘protecting his hands’, if he could not defend himself from getting stabbed in the chest?

“Well you said you needed help.” Castiel nodded, his head tilting slightly to the side as he tried to come to some sort of understanding.“ And you're angry, at God and everything… and so… I thought you could pretend that’s him.” He nodded  again at the bag before shrugging a shoulder. Trying not to let his amusement show as Cas’ nose scrunched up and deep lines appeared in his nasal bridge. Where he had once been so unreadable,  his features now gave everything away, leaving Sam unsurprised by the words that followed.

“I don't think so.”

The hunter just rolled his eyes.  

“Just give it a try, it will be good for you. Trust me.  Sometimes you’ve just gotta let it out.” If he was honest, they’d only ever used the bag on a couple of visits themselves. By the time they returned to Bobby’s after over a year down south,  both he and Dean had wrongly learnt to hide their anger, or take it out on the monsters they hunted. Neither of them felt the urge to use it again. “Punch it, kick it, whatever you want. It’s surprisingly tough.”

“I think the chloroform fumes got to you.” Castiel said, looking far from convinced by the idea as he took a step back and went to turn around. He’d asked Sam to stop him hitting Dean, and he had done that. He was in control again. Enough to know punching a bag of hanging sand was entirely pointless.

“What are you afraid of? If it doesn’t help, it doesn’t help, but what’s the harm in trying?” Sam probed, walking behind the bag and holding on to either side of it, raising an eyebrow challengingly. If this was going to work, he needed him to get angry again, he needed him to want to hit something. He couldn’t let him walk out of there with that anger still caged up. It had attacked the walls it was held by enough as it was, one more little nudge and they would crumble.

“There is none.. But the suggestion is ludicrous.” Castiel stubbornly folded his arms. Frowning  at how impossible the gloves made that action and quickly dropping them to his side again instead. Why he hadn’t torn them off yet he didn’t know. Though looking at them, he wasn’t sure if he would even manage the task by himself.

Sam bit down on his lip, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. This was neither the time or the place to find the angel’s sulkiness adorable.

“So? Look, you can’t bottle things up, it doesn’t work.” He continued, adjusting his stance so his legs were a bit more firmly cemented to the ground. He had this funny feeling Cas could send him flying off his feet if he didn’t achor himself. “You want to control your anger? You have to start by letting it out. In a safe environment, where no one is going to get hurt. Otherwise, you will end up doing something you'll regret.”

“I won't regret hitting Dean.” The angel shot back, causing Sam to raise an eyebrow.

“No? Then why did you stop yourself before? Why did you come to me?” Castiel looked away, his expression hard. An uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest, the same one which made that lump form in his throat earlier. He didn’t want to deal with this, he just wanted to push it away, ignore it. Use the Winchester method and hope it never resurfaced. “I’ll tell you why, because you didn’t want to hurt him, because that anger… it scared  you right?”  

The angel turned back, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at Sam with guarded expression. “I am not afraid.”

He wasn’t, he was warrior, warriors did not scare easily.

“Yeah you are.” Sam nodded, pressing his lips together. “And believe me, I get it, I do, there have been times I have been so angry, i’ve been terrified by the thought of what I’m capable of. But that’s normal.”

Castiel’s mouth parted slightly. “You're wrong. I am not you-I know what damage I can do.”

Sam shook his head.

“But you don’t. Not anymore.” He had the feeling he was going to pay for this one. “As a human, you don’t know. And it’s not just the case of physically hurting someone anymore, it's the mental scars which go along with it. If you think your regret about the apocalypse is bad, then you don’t want to know what it's like to wake up from the haze and realise you’ve hurt someone. Fear is not a bad thing Cas, it gets us to react, to stop ourselves before we have the chance to lose control.”

Castiel swallowed, the earlier lump appearing back in his throat, making his chest constrict. A small plague of doubt making its way through his own stubbornness. “It won’t come to that.”

Even he could hear the falter in his tone.

“Yes it will.” Sam had little doubt. “Anger can be consuming and awful. I saw you earlier, I saw the look on your face. You almost couldn’t stop it. And that, that is going to keep happening until you either lose yourself or you confront it.”

“I don’t want to.” He said, his voice lower than normal. A strange feeling rising within him making him want to almost shrink back. His chest constricted slightly, as if it was fighting against something, his stomach twisting into knots.

“Nobody does. But what’s worse to you? Dealing with it? Or  dealing with repercussions of hurting someone you care about?” He patted either side of the bag, his eyes locking encouragingly with Castiel’s. He had to do this, he had to get him to do this. Or it was just going to build and build and then where would they be? At someone’s funeral more than likely. “How sure are you that you can keep stopping yourself? Because you can’t heal your mistakes anymore.”

The angel's mouth parted again, the insides feeling all together to dry.

Sam watched as a thousand different things flashed across Cas’ face and he bit down at his lip, uncomfortable with what he was about to say, but knowing he had little choice. Not if he wanted to stop Cas from running from this.

“You know, I’m never going to let you hit Dean right? So answer me something. What if next time you can’t stop? What if you can’t control yourself when I pull you back? What happens then? You going to hit me?”

He flinched. He visibly flinched, and Sam felt a pang of guilt shoot through his gut.

“Of course not! I’d never-”

“Can you be sure about that? Honestly?” He raised an eyebrow. “ If you can tell me, right now, your one hundred percent certain that will never happen, that you will never loose control, that that rage can be stopped, then we can walk out of here and forget this whole thing.”

He folded his arms, pointing with his finger towards the door. Castiel turned to face it slowly then looked back to Sam again.  The hairs starting to stick up on the back of his neck as his eyes locked with the hunters.

Horror, that was what he felt, complete and utter horror at even the suggestion.

Sam was the one person he yearned for in the world, the one his mind and body craved intimacy with. He would never hurt him.

He couldn’t hurt him…

At least, he liked to think he couldn’t. His body filled with unease all the same, his eyes shifting, a slight tremor running through his fingers.

His blood had boiled back at that house and he had been so close, so close to ripping Dean to shreds. His anger got worse, harder to keep a lid on each day and nothing was stopping it. Not going on benders, sleeping, concentrating on hunts. Nothing. Sam had stopped him today, but would that always be the case?

He thought back to how he felt earlier, how he imagined hurting Dean and tried to add Sam to the equation too. Sam coming in, Sam pulling the crow bar out of his hand. Sam having to restrain him, because that anger was not going to give in easily.

But what would he have done to break free?

Would he have tried to break free?

Possibly.

Almost certainly.

He looked down at his hands, and then back up to Sam again. Pure terror running through him as the most impossible thought entered his mind. Was Sam worried about that happening? Did he think he would? Could he see what Castiel could not?

He thought back to the picture again, the rage, watching this time as he threw Sam off of him.

He swallowed down another lump.

He wouldn’t…

He could control it…

“I..” His voice trailed off.

The question was, could he risk it?

“What do I do?” He asked, taking a hesitant step forward. Because no, there was no way he was losing what he had with him. He could not face this world if Sam was not a part of his. If he could not look into those eyes again.

Sam licked his lips.

“Hands into a fists, keep your thumb in, and just punch it. We’ll see what happens next.”

He nodded, firmly and raised his arm a fraction in preparation.

He would do one, just one...one good punch.

Get it out of his system.

Prove to himself he could pull back, that he could stop.

That he would never lose control and risk his relationship with Sam.

He formed a fist, taking a deep breathe as he took a last glance at the hunter.

He had to do this. For him.

With one quick movement, his fist collided into the bag.

_He could do this._

_He knew he could do this._

_He could stop._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part was too long to add onto this so i'm splitting it. But I promise lots of fluff and angst in the next chapter. Lots and lots of fluff if my brain gets its way. I dunno about you guys but it doesn't feel like a lot happened here, so i feel weird posting this. But the ending worked so... sorry I'm rambling XD


	32. Chapter 32

That one individual punch, turned into a second, then a third before Castiel could force his hand to still.  His forehead coming to rest against the punching bag as he breathed out heavily.

“That wasn’t so hard.” He rasped, his face tightening from the guilt his own lie brought him. He rubbed his forehead slowly against the fabric and pinched his eyes closed, trying to cool the fire which seemed to be burning underneath his skin.Truth be told, it had been nothing like he had anticipated. He had felt his control slipping, his anger rising with each hit.

 He had been fine at first, until the very second his knuckles connected with that bag. Then, it was almost like someone had flipped a switch, his temper spiraling within him, demanding to take a hold. It was only thoughts of Sam, stood mere centimetres away, that reminded him why he couldn’t let it.

Why he had to fight against it.

It had taken everything he had, but he had done it.

He had stopped.

Carefully, he drew his head to the side, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. He’d felt the anger, but he had not let it consume him and while three strikes may not have been ideal, it was far better than the alternative. Yeah, fine, he may have still felt on the edge and altogether too tense, but what did that matter when he had managed to keep his mind?

He nodded, once, firmly, before sparing a glance to the hunter, wondering if he was happy with the result too. He couldn’t see the man’s face through the feed sack, but frowned slightly when he realised that his grip still remained on it. Almost like he was expecting there was more to come. Castiel felt his chest deflate. A sense of disappointment filling him as he realised Sam didn't have faith in him.

The real question however was, why?

Why was he so convinced he was going to lose it?

What did he know that the angel didn't?

It was only when he went to pull back, did he realise his teeth were gritting together, his nails digging into the rough fabric that had been forced onto his hands. His fist, while lowered, was refusing to drop to his side. He concentrated on it, putting everything he had into commanding it move.

The only response he got was a slight tremble working its way through his arm as his muscles contracted even more.

He squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to push down the burn that was rising up his throat. His skin heating up the harder he fought against it.

Three punches hadn’t done anything. They were weak and unsatisfying. Sam had asked him to release his anger, but they had barely scratched the surface. He drew his hand back a little, the urge he was trying to pretend wasn’t there, becoming too hard to ignore.  Before he knew what was happening, he was delivering a fourth blow. Quickly followed by fifth.

The veins on his neck stuck out as eyes darkened. He span, the ends of his trench coat swaying as he stormed towards the door, suddenly finding there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. He paused in the archway however, taking a single breathe in, before turning  and rushing back to strike out once more.

This time he caused even the plastic windows around them to rattle from the blow.

Castiel licked his lips as he glanced up at the unsteady beam, despising everything he was doing. The only solace he could take was in the fact he was still thinking, still aware of his actions. That had to count for something.

He took a deep breathe in, trying to calm his heartbeat down. This would be the last one he told himself, the absolute last. The one to please the monster that was digging its claws into his chest.

He hit out and as his fist collided with the bag, it was like a red mist descended on him. It reached out, engulfing his mind, his arms and everything else it could stretch too,  before weaving it's way into his very being.  His teeth parted and his bottom jaw shook from the strain he placed it under. Suddenly, what he felt couldn't be described as anger anymore. It was hatred and nails running down a chalkboard and just this gut wrenching need to unleash some sort of misery onto the world.

He wanted to rip things apart with his bare hands, wanted to see the bag as a crumpled mess on the floor. Wanted someone, somewhere to feel even an inch of what he was feeling.

He added his second fist. All the while imagining how much better the whole process would be, if there was a consciousness attached to the hanging grain. Or even a body, one that would bruise and bleed and show the damage he was causing to it.

He smiled at just the thought.  The image in front of him morphing into someone with arms and legs and most importantly, a face.

A part of him knew that needed to stop, that he needed to walk away, but he couldn’t. His thirst was stronger than his logic and the more he lashed out, the more violent the pictures started to become. His desires slithering down a dangerous path.  Willing him to reach for his angel blade. To stab, to slash, to smite everything in his path.

He wanted mutilation, he wanted suffering.

The light shone in from the doorway, causing a glare to appear down the bag.

It only succeeded in making him angrier. Adrenaline shooting through his veins, his muscles seizing up, preparing themselves as if they were being called upon to fight for his life.

The room seemed to vanish around him and soon the only thing he could see was that light, growing larger, dancing, taunting, speaking to him.

His blood pounded, boiling over top, sending his temperature skyrocketing every time his fist hit the bag.

The voice that told him to stop got quieter the longer he gave in for, drowned out by the pounding in his ears. Other things soon started to come to the surface instead, making him focus on things he just didn’t want to anymore.

Like the fact Dean was giving up,

And that the Winchester’s were going to die,

And if he survived he was going to have to learn what it meant to grieve.

He let out a growl.

The time in between each blow lessening. One fist barely making contact before the other was working it’s way back again. His breathing was out of control, his eyes like that of a wild animal as the anger seemed to become him and he became the anger.

His mind whirled in all sorts of directions. Before coming to a halt and consuming him with thoughts of one thing. One person. His father. The one responsible for all of this.

 If he was still there, if he could still see into that room, he wanted nothing more than for him to feel each assault as if they were directed at him and him alone.

Because he didn't understand how he could do it? How he could create a world full of such perfect imperfections and leave it to burn at the hands of his own children? How two brothers who saved people time and time again, were going to be forced to become a part of the destruction?

He stopped punching, it wasn’t enough, it was taking too long. He started thumping, banging at it with all his might.

It wasn't the moves of a warrior, but he did not care.

How could he ever care about anything again?

He cared about Sam, and his last months would be spent going through hell, till everything that made him Sam, was striped away. He was going to be forced to watch him slowly die and there was nothing he could do about it.

The only thing left of the world would soon be ash and emotionless robots, too afraid to use their own free will.

The bag started to move a little more, creaking filling his ears. He brushed it aside.

“You son of a bitch.” He hissed, his knee coming up to catch the bottom of it.

Because it was God, God who had designed it this way. Who had decided, before people even had arms or legs, that one day they would suffer tremendously. That his newest world was the perfect playground for his children’s war. Even know, knowing how it had flourished, he was still to stubborn, to inconsiderate, to much of a barbarian to do anything to stop it.

“You son of a bitch.”

A single word, a command, it would be all it took.

But he wouldn’t do it.

He was leaving them all. The humans, the angels and all the creatures he had created. Choosing to just sit back and literally do nothing but watch them suffer.

“You son of a BITCH.”

He didn’t even realise he was shouting, until the sound started vibrating in his ears. Still that didn’t stop him as he tore into the bag more. His rage building to a point he thought it was going to explode out of him, blow a hole in his chest. Leave him bleeding out on the floor.

His breathing got heavier, his legs felt weaker. But he paid the warnings no attention. He just kept going and going and going. He had to gulp the air in now, his body desperately needing more than he could possibly provide. His muscles starting to feel like they were being set alight, unused to the vigorous actions he was demanding from them.

He hit it again, a catch leaving his throat.

It wasn’t enough, nothing was ever going to be enough.

Nothing was going to put this right.

His head spun as pounded against it, his knees coming up one after the other, hitting the bottom, the side, anywhere he could manage.

He hissed and spat and growled, the most inhumane noises leaving his throat, until even the sounds refused to come any more.

He gasped out, his lungs refusing to work, as every piece of energy he had left evaporated. Without realising it, his actions started to become slower, less powerful. And bit by bit, the room seemed to merge back into his focus around him. Legs appearing at the bottom of the bag. Hands towards the side of it.

He closed his eyes.

He couldn’t stop, his body wouldn’t allow him to stop.

He raised his hand, hitting out again, running his fist down the material as it flopped to his side.

It wasn’t enough, he hadn’t finish.

He picked his other one up, more tapping than anything now.

Before he could land one final blow, his legs gave way beneath him and he was suddenly on his knees. His body falling forward. Panting.

He hadn’t realised at some point Sam had moved, but he must have, as hands which werent his own were suddenly there, catching his shoulders, preventing his face from landing on the floor.

He dropped onto all fours, desperately trying to get his breathe back. His vision dancing as a figure crouched down in front of him.

“It’s okay.” Sam said, his voice almost as hoarse as Cas imagined his would sound. The statement was repeated as the angel closed his eyes, trying to regain control of himself. A small pit growing in his stomach as he began to realise exactly what he had just done. And the implications which followed.

He had been wrong, so very wrong.

He had every reason to fear his temper.

Every reason to fear what he could do.

He couldn’t stop it, he tried and tried but he just couldn’t make it happen. Even when he was aware of what he was doing again, it made no difference. He just didn’t have the power, the strength, the ability to be more than a puppet to his own anger.

His eyes widened as he recalled his actions and the thoughts that plagued him.

He could have done anything, to anyone and he wouldn’t have be able to do a damn thing about it. It was only the presence of the gloves which stopped him pulling out that blade. If they hadn’t been there… if that had been Dean...

He gulped, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, the whites of his eyes showing. His stomach was churning, a different type of burning sensation making its way up his throat.

He had lived for thousands of years, and never had he not been in complete control of himself before.

“Cas it’s okay. “ Sam repeated for a third time, moving his hands down from Cas’ shoulders, to his chest and pushing back, helping him into a kneeling position. “Breathe- ‘You think your gunna be sick?” The angel shook his head, but even as he did, he wasn’t entirely sure it was true. His body wanted rid of what had come over him and emptying his stomach seemed as good a way as any.

“I couldn’t stop.” He managed to say, his eyes filling with horror as he dropped his hand. Was this why angels were never meant to feel emotions? To live like the humans? Was he not made for handling them?

Sam’ pulled a cloth out of his pocket, reaching up to wipe it across Cas’ forehead, sponging some of the sweat that had formed away.

“And that’s okay. Don’t worry. We will make sure you don’t feel like that again.” He dropped the cloth, tracing his fingers down the angel’s cheek, before drawing them up to his hair, brushing it back. Trying to style it in the way he usually wore. It seemed trivial giving the man’s state but it was something, something else for the angel to focus on. A way for him to feel a little more like himself.

Castiel leant into the touch for a moment, before he shook his head, jolting back as if he had been stung. “No…” He reached his arms up, almost trying to push Sam away. “Stay b-” He breathed out heavily, unable to complete his sentence. He shook his head again, trying to summon the words, to force them past his lips. His lungs however refused to let him do anything but gulp in the air.

Sam reached for his hands without a word, guiding them down, holding them in between them.

“Let’s get these off.” He said, choosing to ignore the protest.

He pulled at the straps, slipping the gloves off one at a time. Castiel kept his eyes downcast, only half paying any sort of attention as Sam traced his fingers along his own, slowly, uncurling them from the fist they seemed to be stuck in. He rubbed at the joints as if they would be stiff, running his thumb and finger over each one as Cas found himself slipping into some sort of haze.

He hated to admit it, but it felt nice.

He tried not to question it when Sam’s attention turned to his wrists, moving them back and forth, then around in circles. It was only when he started gently pressing down his arm, did he realise he was checking for any signs of injury. And perhaps pressing on the muscles to get them to relax.

Sam took Cas’ hands in his own when he was done, tilting his head slightly to try and catch the angel’s eye.

“You're not going to hurt me.” He sounded so completely convinced that Castiel found himself looking up at him with a frown. Wondering if he had somehow avoided watching the display. He opened his mouth to protest through his breaths but Sam beat him to it.  “You're not.” He reaffirmed.

“You- don’t know that.” Cas dropped his gaze again. His eyes shining with an unspoken apology. Sam meant everything to him. He never wanted distance to be placed between them. But how could he allow him to be close now? When he could so easily end up hurting him? He just couldn’t risk it, he could never risk it. Just the thought of the hunter recoiling away from his touch made his entire gut twist.  

The anger was still there, still inside of him, even if he was too tired to do anything about it. It was there, just waiting for its next chance. How could he ever be sure it wouldn’t be directed to Sam?

“Yes I do. Cas there is a big difference between lashing out at an object and a person.” Sam let go of one of his hands, but tightened his hold on the other, his fingers reaching under the man’s chin, gently lifting it up so he would look at him. “I’m going to help you, okay? It won’t get that bad again.”

He moved his fingers,  tracing them across Cas’ neck, until they cupped the back of his head instead. He looked into his eyes for a moment, then carefully tugged him forward. Castiel tried to resist and it worked- for all of about two seconds before his head dropped on its own accord. He took in a calmer breathe as lips pressed against his temple. That was all it took for his body to give in completely and he soon found himself leaning against a chest as strong arms wrapped around him, almost engulfing him.

He didn’t deserve it, but by God he wanted it.

“It’s okay.” Sam repeated once again, drawing patterns along the man’s back. His fingers creating large and small circles and swirls, wanting to offer him some sort of comfort. He kept his hold firm, determined Castiel wasn’t going to do this, wasn’t going to try and pull away from him, in every sense of the word. He listened as the angel continued to breathe erratically, trying desperately to get rid of the waste that had built up inside of him.

Sam felt eyelids close against his shirt and slipped his other hand around to rest in the curve of Cas’ spine.

It was his turn to glance up to the heavens, silent curse words coming out of his mouth that Dean would be proud of. He would have done anything to just be able to pull the pain away from the angel. To give him a chance to remember what it was to live without it.

Castiel took in a sharp breath, which only made Sam try and reach his arms around him more. Wanting to ground him. Wanting him to realise that he was there with him, that he wasn’t alone. He hated seeing him like this. He had held a lump in his throat the entire time he watched him hit out at that bag.  

His own legs had been straining to keep his body still, his arms feeling like they were about to drop off as he pushed back against Cas’ assaults. He glanced up at the crack that ran along the beam, still surprised it had held out for so long.The man was strong, stronger than he anticipated and he had put all of his pain into every blow.

He felt the man’s body shudder.

Keeping one arm around Castiel’s shoulders, he pulled away slightly, reaching to trace a circle just under his eye with his thumb. He had to help him. He had to help him find himself again.

“You’re alright, Cas.” He said softly. “It’s fine.” The angel shook his head. “You are. I got you. It’s over.”

The head just kept on moving side to side. He was not fine and he certainly shouldn’t have been near anyone, least of all Sam.  The anger was subsiding a bit more now, but in its place was just this hole, this lack of anything in his chest. He could feel Sam’s arms were around him, but it was almost like a barrier was there, causing the touch to not quite reach his skin. He knew he was in that shed, but he felt more like he was watching himself there, than feeling it.

He swallowed hard, a whole other type of panic hitting him. He had hated the strong emotions, but now he would give anything for them to return to him again. Because this was worse. This, this... whatever it was. This numbness- it was like he was before, before he met the Winchesters, experiencing life but not feeling it at all.

His jaw shook and he blinked a few times, his breathing building back up again. What was this?

He didn’t want to go back.

He lifted arms, wrapping them around Sam’s waist.The urge to be close to him becoming almost overpowering. He was not proud to admit he practically clung to him, inhaling his scent. He needed to feel him, he needed him to be there.

Sam moved his head to rest his chin on top of Castiel’s hair.

“Breathe.” He said, gripping at the back of his neck. He took in his own, deep, loud breath, then blew the air out again slowly. “Like me.” He repeated the movements, until he felt Castiel starting to fall into sync. “It’s okay.”

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Castiel all but forced two little words out. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He wanted to pull away but at the same time he wanted Sam to never let him go. He’d craved contact before, but not like this. It was different, unsettling. Desperate.

Sam drew back, both hands going back to Cas’ shoulders, pulling him away, but only enough for the angel to be able to look in his eyes again.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay to be angry… Or to need someone.” He wasn’t entirely sure which the apology was meant for. “Dean and I, we still find emotions hard, and we’ve grown up with them, you got thrown in at the deep end... Personally, I admire your resilience.” He nodded his head, a small smile on his face, trying his best to reassure the angel. “You should have seen us on this thing Cas… everyone loses it sometimes.”

“I could have hurt-”

“But you didn’t. You chose to come to me instead of going after Dean and you chose this. That's a sign of strength, not weakness.” Castiel expression looked far from convinced, but he nodded his head all the same, dropping his gaze. Sam shook his head. “It is!”

“God could fix all of this.”

Sam nodded barely missing a beat.

“I know, but he won’t, so we’re going to. You hear me? We. Are. Going to.” He licked his lips, nodding his head again, putting every ounce of his belief into his face in the hopes some of it would transfer to the angel. He was far from naive, of course he knew how it looked, that the likelihood of them winning was slim, but he could not allow himself to think of the alternative.They had to do this. Giving in wasn’t an option. No matter how long it took, they would find a way.

Castiel glanced to the side, but he leant forward again, allowing his head to drop in the crook of Sam’s neck this time. It was better, he had decided, when he could feel him close, because it meant he could still feel something. Sam would probably know why his body was feeling like this, but he didn’t dare ask him, too afraid of the answer.

“And if we can’t.” He questioned, his breathing somewhat returning to normal.

“We will. We just need to stick together. Me, you, Dean and Bobby. We've got this.”

Castiel licked his lips in acknowledgment, but failed to say anything in return. What was there to say? He didn't believe that and Sam knew it. It pointless pretending otherwise. 

They stayed still for a few moments longer, before Sam shifted back just an inch. 

“You think you may be ready to try standing up?” He asked. He felt the angel nod his head, though it seemed a somewhat reluctant move. With a frown, Sam got to his feet, sliding his hands along Cas' arms in reassurance. He held his hand out in offering as soon as he was steady. The angel looked up at him with guarded eyes, before tentatively reaching out and curling his fingers around Sam’s. The hunter pulled, and he was standing before he knew it. 

“Do you want to head back or...?”

Castiel turned his attention to the door, looking out at the green. Feeling himself deflate at just the thought of going back to the house and facing Dean again. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, it had to happen eventually. It was just- Sam was never as tactile with him when they were around others and he just didn’t feel ready to step away from him yet.

He still didn’t understand why, but he needed his hold.

“Could we... sit outside?”

He glanced back to Sam, watching his reaction carefully. He did not want them to stay if he was anxious to get back to his brother. He was sure he would be worried about him, about how Bobby was coping. It was selfish for him to want them both to stay away.

Sam nodded his head all the same, giving no indication if that bothered him in the slightest.

“Whatever you want.” Sam's hand reached to his back, pressing into the curve of his spine to guide him out the door. Castiel closed his eyes at the touch. It was soothing, but it didn't help cure the emptiness inside him. It just seemed to bring on a sudden desire for him to wrap his arms around himself and shrink into his clothing. A desire he didn't understand in the slightest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Split the chapter again. There will be more in a couple of days!


	33. Chapter 33

Walking ahead of Castiel, Sam glanced around the wasteland, trying to pick out a place to sit. He was already preparing himself for having to settle for a spot which would be the least uncomfortable. Noticing a small clearing, he headed towards it, kicking a few stones out of the way. Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground, motioning for the angel to do the same. He could feel the wet leaves that were scattered beneath him already starting to soak through his jeans, but tried his best to ignore it. They were better off sitting on them than on the thistles growing everywhere else.  

Without a word, Cas turned and dropped to the ground beside him, leaving just a small gap between them. Sam automatically reached out to slip his arm around his shoulders, wanting to show he was there for him. He frowned however when he realised how tense Cas’ posture was under his touch. The robotic movements he had put down to stiffness as they headed up the bank, suddenly becoming much more of a concern.

“Cas?”

When the angel didn’t respond, he gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying to gather his attention. His eyebrows drew together in confusion when that failed to produce any sort of reaction from him either. Tilting forwards, Sam cocked his head to the side to look him in the eye. He froze however when he came to see the sunken expression that had taken over Cas’ features.

“Hey.” He said, the concern evident in his tone. He shook his shoulder slightly, his right hand moving to rest on Cas’ knee cap. “Cas? You with me?”

He pressed his lips together and gave a brief frown when he was met by silence. Not understanding what had changed. Cas had been overwhelmed when they were in the outhouse sure, but he had been communicating with him. Talking, nodding, willing to look at him. So why was he withdrawing into himself now? Had he missed something important? Missed a vital clue as to what was going on in his head?

Sam glanced away, his concern for him growing. It almost looked like he was detaching himself from the world. Or his emotions at the very least.

He contemplated moving to give Castiel some space, but ultimately decided against it. He may have been tense but he wasn’t shrugging him off. That had to count for something right?

“Can you look at me?” He asked, licking his lips determinedly. He had to find away to get through to him, to break him out of this trance. He lifted his hand up, keeping it hovering just underneath the left side of the angel’s face. “Come on man, you're scaring me.”

Castiel’s eyes shifted ever so slightly to the side, but had Sam not been staring intently at them, he would never have noticed them move at all. He felt the angel’s posture tense up more,  his shoulders drawing inwards, as if he was trying to make himself smaller.

Sam frowned, lifting his fingers off his shoulder. Trying to work out what it was that Cas needed from him. To leave him be? Or to pull him closer?

He moved his right hand to his own lap and looked away again, searching the skies as if the clouds would hold an answer. Would somehow tell him what to do for the best. There had to be some sort of explanation, because this wasn’t the angel he had come to know.

“Did I ever tell you about my first proper hunt?” He didn’t know why that came to mind, it held no real relevance. But that didn’t stop him from telling the angel every little detail anyway. He knew he would be no more than background noise to him, but maybe that was just what Cas needed. Something to hold on to. A familiar sound to help guide him back to the surface.

He rubbed his hand up and down the angel’s arm as he spoke. The speed and tone of his voice, coming to match that of his movements. Slow and soft.

“My dad didn’t know whether to be proud or pissed.” He forced a laugh. Watching as Castiel’s eyes fell closed. He paused for a second, biting at his tongue, before continuing on with his story.

Castiel drew in a much needed breathe. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. He just knew it felt like  it wasn’t happening to him. Like he wasn’t even on the earthly plane anymore. He was just watching the world pass by him through a small crackling tv screen. There were no sensations, no lasting thoughts, just this emptiness in his chest. Almost as if his anger had pushed out every  emotion that he had once held.

It had been there while he was inside, this growing sense of nothing and the more he tried to push away what he felt, the more it seemed to grow... Until it took ahold completely.

He could hear Sam’s voice, though he wasn’t sure what it was saying. His mind playing everything he had done over and over, as he drifted further and further away from it.

He wasn’t cold, but he felt he felt like warmth was a distant memory. Like his skin wasn’t capable of retaining heat anymore. He was floating, hovering above the fading scenes around him. He had done something terrible, was capable of worse and now  Sam had seen him that way too. He just wanted the darkness to eat him. To take him away from it all.

He tried to shake his head, to snap himself out of it, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even remember what muscles were required to do it.

He tried to frown, but that was near to impossible for him too.  

You needed features for that.

heel, you needed to be a person and he wasn’t.

It was like he had used up everything he was and now he was just there.

A vapour, a light without grace.

“....and he had the words bikini inspector on it…”

The sound waves hit him and he found himself concentrating. The words and the voice were distinctively Sam, but he could not decipher the meaning behind them.

He strained his hearing, trying to pin Sam down to a location. Maybe if he got closer, he could understand what it was he was saying. But it seemed like an impossible task. He was everywhere, in no certain direction.

He stopped trying to see and just listened for the sound, wanting to draw himself towards it.

“...I have never been so embarrassed..” Sam blinked. Suddenly feeling a body lean into his own. His heartbeat picked up pace but he tried not to let his speech falter. Tried not to make it seem like it was a big deal at all. He waited before he allowed himself to respond, wanting to make sure it wasn’t an accident. That Castiel had fully intended to rest against him. When he deemed that the case, he tightened his hold. Wrapping his arm further around him in the process. Less casual, more embracing. Wanting to let Cas know that if he wanted him, then he wasn’t going anywhere.

He reached his free hand down to the grass when he ran out of things to say, tugging at the long strands and breaking them away from their roots. Piece by piece. He kept his gaze straight ahead, but still allowed for a watchful eye on the angel.

Castiel's eyes opened at the sudden change, his attention shifting to the side curiously. He watched the motions as if he were hypnotised by them.  His mind blank as he focused solely on wondering which blade Sam would choose next. It brought him a strange sense of peace. A welcomed distraction to the chaos going on inside.

Sam kept that up until he ran out of grass that was within reach. However he continued to run broken pieces through his fingers, sparing glances at the angel as he did. He didn’t want to push him too soon. But at the same time, he needed him to look at him now. Needed him to start engaging again.

He took a moment, studying him, making sure he was truly with him.

“So, hey, I was thinking.” He stated, licking at his lips. Knowing there was only one sure way to gain a soldier's complete attention. “Maybe we should set some ground rules.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. The fog that surrounded him like a barrier, lifting just a little. He ran over the words in his head before slowly turning towards the hunter.

“What rules?” He asked suspiciously, his cheek rubbing against the man’s shirt. He tried not to breathe in his scent as it did, knowing he was unworthy of taking such solace.

“Just something to make things easier, for the both of us.” Sam said as nonchalantly as he could, glancing down at the angel, whose attention diverted more to Sam’s nose the second they made eye contact. He tried not to let that bother him. At least he wasn’t shutting him out completely. “I mean. It's not exactly a secret that we have a bit of a habit of running. So we need to do something to change that. Make an effort to talk about things.” He made sure it didn’t come across as a question. Not wanting to give the angel the option of saying no. Things had gotten too far out of hand for that. Lashing out may have helped once, but it was no solution. If they didn’t do something now, then a few weeks down the line, they would be facing the same problem all over again.

His eyes were full of anticipation as he nodded his head. Hoping the movement would spur the angel on to agreeing too.

It did not.

Castiel’s expression turned blank again and he looked away. Though the hunter was almost sure he could detect the early workings of an eyeroll.

“We have more  important things to worry about than my anger.” Castiel replied dully. Because no matter how generic Sam made the statement sound, it was obvious what had prompted it.

Sam shook his head, his chest tightening as his ears picked up on something in the angel’s voice. It was too quiet, too resigned, so unlike everything Castiel was.

“No, we don’t. If you're struggling then it matters. You don’t have to deal with things on your own. You’ve got me, so use me. Talk to me. Let me help you.” He reached out his hand to place over Castiel’s, but the angel moved his away, shaking his head, his eyes focusing on the floor. Sam swallowed down a lump, eying him warily. What ever had prompted the silence before, was clearly still affecting him now.

“No amount of talking will change anything.”

It was there again, in his voice, in the way his shoulder’s coiled inwards against his chest. Sam watched as Castiel folded his arms tightly across his abdomen. Clearly uncomfortable, though it wasn’t due to any physical pain. Anyone else may have written it of as emotional exhaustion. But he didn’t want to do that. Cas did nothing but push himself to his limits, and never had it produced such a reaction before. It was so unlike everything he was to shy away. There had to be a reason for it. A reason he couldn’t even bring himself to look at him. It was just up to Sam to find it.

“How do you know that?” He coaxed, studying his features carefully. Castiel shrugged his shoulders, glancing to his right, so he couldn’t even see the hunter’s outline anymore.

“Because it won’t change how far I’ve fallen.” He admitted, not understanding how Sam seemed to have the uncanny ability to get him to tell him everything. The words caused his face to crease up as they came out. Like vocalizing it was a sin. He bit down hard on his jaw in response. Feeling very much like he had gone back to the state he used to exist in. The emotionless hammer, as Dean had called him.

Except, there was still one. One feeling, one emotion he had never experienced before. It was crawling inside of him, making him want to tuck himself away.  And the more he spoke to Sam, the worse it seemed to get.

“Maybe not.” Sam replied. “But it may give you a different perspective on it.”

He shook his head, pinching his eyes closed.

“There is no different perspective. I am not worthy enough to be considered an angel.  And after- that- I can hardly consider myself human.” He glanced to the man’s torso out of the corner of his eyes, drawing his body away from him as he did. “I’m.” He shook his head. “ I don’t know what I am.”

Sam twisted to accommodate the change, running his left hand from Cas’ furthest shoulder, to the one the positioned between them. Allowing the space Cas clearly desired, but not moving enough for him to feel like he was giving up on him. Like his admission had changed anything.

“Do you want to know what it means to be human Cas?” He asked, fighting off the urge to tell the man he would always be an angel to him. Despite how true it was, it wouldn’t be helpful to him now. That wasn’t even close to what Cas needed to hear.  “Feeling. That’s it. That’s the big secret. We feel things... compassion, love, regret, anger... the list goes on... but listen to me. Because this is really important. Okay? One isn't placed above another.  And lashing out doesn’t erase your humanity.”

He had to know that and he had to know he knew that. Then maybe Cas could have a shot at understanding everything else.

“Except I don’t feel anything anymore.” He replied, a harsh edge to his tone, taking Sam by surprise.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, his forehead creasing as he searched the man’s face. As if it would hold some sort of clue.

“Whatever I felt, is gone now. I’m just … empty.”

It was that admission which changed everything for Sam. That made him realise exactly what was going on with his friend. He sat up straighter, gripping onto his shoulder.

“Cas… Look at me.” He didn’t get how he could have missed it before. It was so obvious now.

“Cas.” He said a little bit more forcefully when he got nothing in return.

“Castiel!”

It was the use of his full name that did it. It seemed so alien on Sam’s lips now. It was formal. Something Sam used only when they first met. When by his own admission, he was afraid of him. If he was honest, he hadn’t really realised he had stopped using it. Not until that very moment. Slowly he turned his head, looking up into Sam’s eyes with great reluctance.

“You know…you wouldn’t struggle with any of this if you didn’t feel something right?” Sam said carefully, trying to keep his tone even. “What your experiencing now. Its called numbness, it's what happens when you suppress your emotions. But that doesn't erase them completely and it's not permanent. All you have to do is let yourself feel them again and you will."

Sam shifted, so he was facing him side on, in a better position to maintain the eye contact. Though Castiel quickly dropped his gaze again.

"I'm not sure I want to. Not after what I..." The grimace that followed was completely unintentional on the angel’s part and he drew his legs up towards himself. Resting his arms over the top of them. The flashes of that bag, that light, his temper, causing him to want to draw back even more.  He closed his eyes. What was happening to him?

"Cas. Losing control is nothing to be ashamed of!”

If Sam hadn’t already have been so certain, the creases which appeared along the side of the angel’s face, would have given the game away completely.

He reached out, placing his other hand on top of Castiel’s arms.

He should have said that before. Said a thousand things before. He could have prevented all of this, if he had just taken the time to explain.

Of course Cas was ashamed. He was an angel, a beacon of control, who had lost it completely. And what was worse, was it had been witnessed, by probably the one person he didn’t want it too. He could understand that better than anyone. How hard it was to face someone after they had seen you at your worst.

“You don’t know what I was thinking.” Castiel’s voice was low, toneless, his mouth curling as if the words left a bad taste behind. Sam may have meant well, but he couldn’t say that. Not when he didn’t know the thoughts that swam in his head, the desires, the things he wanted to do to people… Things he could never voice out loud. If it wasn’t for those gloves, that environment… the damage he could have inflicted could have been catastrophic. He shifted, suddenly wanting his angel blade as far away from him as he could get it.

Sam said he still had his humanity, but he had enjoyed the thoughts of blood pooling out of someone's neck. What kind of human did that make him?

“I can imagine.” That was not the answer Castiel expected. His forehead creased as he narrowed his eyes skeptically, looking back to the man as he did. Sam may have been a hunter, but he had never even seen half of the horrors that could be done to someone. Not really. The angels on a good day could still make the most vicious werewolves look like new born kittens. They were ruthless. He was ruthless. “We all get dark thoughts Cas. It’s our reaction to them after that matters.”

Castiel shook his head slowly, Sam just didn’t get it. And god, he wished he didn’t have to enlighten him.

“They aren’t just thoughts Sam, but things I have already done in the past.” He doubted there was anything he hadn’t done in the name of the lord. He used to be proud of this fact. He was a good soldier. He did not show mercy. He never cared for the faces. The people he tore apart.

But now, they were all he could think about.

He knew what it was like to face the prospect of losing someone you cared about. And he had put others through that for thousands of years.

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”

“To hundreds of innocent people?”  

Castiel unfolded his arms, pulling them away from Sam’s reach. His gaze dropped to them as he turned his palms over, replaying what he wanted them to do to Dean in his mind. Using even  his nails as a weapon. He shuddered, closing them back into fists, looking up to Sam who was moving to fold his legs underneath himself.

“Just the fact you feel like this- and you do feel it- shows how much you have changed. We all do things we regret, but you shouldn’t dwell on them, it will drive you insane.” He placed his hands in his own lap, bowing his head slightly. “You can forgive yourself for something you’ve done, without forgetting it. You just have to use it to help you do better next time.”

“There is no doing better. My anger is dangerous. You don’t understand what I am capable of.” Castiel replied, his face twitching as if he was forcing the words out. He knew he had to push Sam away, no matter how much his mind and body craved him to do otherwise. He shouldn’t have even been sat next to him. For the man’s own safety.

Still, despite knowing this, he didn’t get up, because it was Sam and there was no other possible explanation he could provide. It was Sam and denying his touch was as much as he could put himself through. He was selfish like that.

 “It’s also healthy and sometimes it needs to be expressed. That doesn’t make you a threat- And you know when we deal with anger properly, it can make things better.”

“How can this, make anything better?” Cas tightened his fists, allowing his arms to shake from the strain he put them under, he grinded his teeth as he looked at Sam, his eyes demanding an answer. Because he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see anyway his desires to hurt the people who called him their family, could ever make anything okay.

“Because you can use it.” Sam replied simply. “ It’s a great motivator when you let it be. When you allow yourself to work with it, instead of getting consumed by it.”

Castiel licked his lips.  “I already am consumed by it.”

Wasn’t that obvious?

“So?” Sam shrugged. “It doesn’t have to stay that way. But if you want to change it, then you need to talk about it with me.” Or Dean, or Bobby or anyone else really. But he honestly did feel like he was the best person for Cas to turn to. He understood losing control, of having issues with anger, better than any of them. He was in the best position to help him, he just wished he would let him.

“Why? You already know everything.” Castiel replied, his eyes narrowing, not understanding what Sam wanted from him. He was there, he knew exactly what the causes were. He had informed him of one of them. What was the point in saying what they both already knew. It was a waste of time.

“I do. But saying it outloud can actually help.”

“There is nothing left to say.” He shook his head, letting out a small breathe as he rolled his  eyes. Knowing the look Sam was giving him without even seeing it. The eyes, the pleading with him to just humor him and give it a chance. He refused to look his way, not wanting to be influenced by it…. of course he gave into it anyway. How could he not? “ What would you have me say? That God has abandoned us. That the angel’s despise me and Dean- ” He couldn’t even complete his sentence. Dean was no better than any of them.

Sam nodded his head slowly in understanding. Trying to hide the flash of surprise that appeared on his features. There seemed to be a rather common theme there. He watched as Castiel narrowed his eyes and looked back up to him, almost as if he was realising that too.

“So basically they’re dicks.” He injected.

Cas lips twitched into a slightly amused smile. “Yes. I beleive that would be a good word for them.”

“Then you're better off without them. Family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t have to start with it either.” He reached out again, patting Cas twice on the knee before moving his hand away. “Though Dean, Dean we are going to get through to.”

“How?” Cas asked, pulling a face. Not quite believing the man they had left in Bobby’s house would ever chose to fight again.

Sam’s lips twitched downwards into an accentuated frown as he shrugged a shoulder. “By being as stubborn as he is.”

Because that’s what it always came down to with them. Who could be the most stubborn for longest. Sooner or later one of them had to give up and it certainly wasn’t going to be him. Dean would realise that soon enough.

“He is stubborn.” Cas agreed. “ And selfish… and a coward.” Sam nodded, having the good sense not to say anything else. Getting the feeling that that they were about to break the dam. “He’s not doing what’s best. He’s taking the easy way out. It’s repugnant.”

Again, Sam said nothing, but he licked at his lips, because finally. They were getting somewhere. Finally Cas was saying how he really felt.

“God is the same. They all are.” He growled, his eyes darkening again. “Righteous used to mean something. But it’s just an excuse for them all to do what they want.” A way to work the system without question, to justify the misery they were causing. “Earth deserves better than the hand it’s been dealt.” He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin, angry line. “I- I looked up to them. All of them. And this is what they do in return? Follow words on a stone and think that makes it okay?!”

Those words used to mean something too, used to be his guidelines. His reason for being. They were to be followed, executed. He believed in them as much as everyone else. Then he began to doubt suffering was worth it. Developed attachments, emotions. Saw what the world really was.

“They are savages.” He dug his nails into the palm of his hand. Shooting a death glare up at the heavens. “They don’t deserve the pedestal they have been put on. When their actions are no better than the souls emerging from hellfire.”

Such talk would have landed him in heaven's jails before, would have been considered the highest form of blasphemy. But he no longer cared for their rules. He should never have abided by them in the first place.

“So what you gonna do about it?” Sam asked, causing Castiel’s attention to flick back around to him. The confusion evident. He hadn’t expected him to respond that way. He seemed to spend half his life confused by things the hunter said. “ I mean you can sit here and call them every name under the sun. Or you can use that anger, redirect it, into stopping them.”

Castiel shook his head.

“We need God for that.” He hated to admit it, but he did believe it. They were archangels. And what were they, 3… 4 powerless people. They didn’t stand a chance alone.

“No we don’t. God hasn’t been a player up there for decades. God didn’t pull Dean out of hell, you did-”

“I had powers then. I don’t now.” Castiel interrupted but Sam was having none of it.

“That hasn’t stopped you from saving me from Lucifer every night. Hasn’t stopped you hunting with us. From standing against them. That hasn’t been God, or your powers. It’s all been you. You don’t need him. We will find a way to beat this, together.”

Castiel shifted, stretching his legs back out in front of him as he considered that.

“I wish I shared that faith.” He replied, as Sam’s lips twitched into a brief smile. Watching as Cas’s shoulders lost the rigidness they had been holding. He may have still been struggling. But he was listening, opening himself up again. That’s all he could ever ask for.

“I know it's hard to believe in things, when it all looks so bleak. But that’s when you’ve got to have faith the most.” He swallowed, tentatively reaching out a hand to place it on Cas’s leg. “In other people and in yourself.”

Castiel looked down at the touch, but this time didn’t even consider shaking it off.

“How?” He asked. It was only one word, but it was said with so much emotion that Sam could almost hear the sentences that should have followed. How can I can trust myself? How can I let myself believe we can do this? How can I cope if we can’t?

“By not entertaining the alternative. By talking to the people around you. By… taking care of yourself. You can’t expect to be in control if you bury things away.” He gave his leg a small squeeze, keeping his touch strong, wanting to use it as Cas’ anchor.

“We don’t always have the time for that.”

“Then we make it ourselves.”Castiel's eyes widened slightly at the absolute determination which crossed Sam’s face and the reassurance that such a thing brought. He hadn’t expected that. Though perhaps he should not have been surprise. He hadn’t expected anything when it came to Sam Winchester.  And look where they were now. Sat together, with his stomach to do somersaults because of one simple touch. Or maybe it was the words, his face, his soul.. hell maybe it was all of the above. “We’re going to do this Cas, I promise you that.”

He turned his palm over, his eyes falling to it. Castiel’s followed his trail and he swallowed down a lump as he looked it over. Letting out a breath, he moved his arm, letting his fingers slip between Sam’s. Neither of them attempted to take up any real hold, they just left them there, resting against each other.

“If- If i raise my expectations. You have to promise me something else.” Sam nodded, his forehead creasing as he took note of the way Cas’ eyes flickered and the slight sweat that appeared on his palm. The angel swallowed forcefully as he prepared himself. “That you're not going to leave me.” Sam frowned, slightly taken aback. “You can not let me see a light at the end of this and then not be there when it’s over.”

He swallowed again, blinking twice as something prickled behind his eyes at just the prospect. He pressed his lips together, his gaze locking with the hunter’s.

“I..I..” Sam stumbled over the words, not knowing how to respond. It wasn’t the fact Cas didn’t want him to die that threw him. He already knew that. It was the look, the look his eyes held, the fear in them. The absolute unwillingness to face the world without him in it. It was the same feeling he held when ever he thought of a life without Dean. Or at a time Jess or… well Cas himself. A look, that said just how much someone meant to you. “I can’t predict the future... But I can promise you no one's taking me anywhere without one hell of a fight.”

Because he couldn’t promise him he would survive. Not when he knew there was a chance he would break it. That he would be yet another person to let the angel down.

Castiel nodded.

That would have to do.

Sam closed his fingers around his hand and reached up with his other to place it on Castiel’s shoulder again.

“You’ve got to promise me something to though.” He added. Smiling slightly as Castiel tilted his head to the side. The angel looked at him curiously before he nodded. “That you really will come to me with things. Instead of running of on benders.”

A puff of air blew out of Castiel’s nose as he bowed his head. Sam leaned forward slightly, raising an eyebrow, waiting for that confirmation. When he got a small nod, followed by the angel’s eyes flicking back up to his, he smiled and leant forward. Wrapping his arms around him properly.

“Good.” He mumbled, more into his shoulder as he ducked his head and pulled Cas into him. “And I mean it Cas, whatever it is, i’ll help you with it.”

Cas nodded his head again, returning the embrace and Sam felt hot breath sink through his skirt as the angel breathed out.

“Then can I ask you something now?” His voice was hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if now was the time or not. But they were talking and Sam had given him an opening.

The hunter pulled back, his hand coming up to tilt Cas’ head up to look at him.

“Go on.” He encouraged.

“I want… need… more.”

“More what?” He asked confused.

“Contact… with you.” Cas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I just. Don’t understand why- Or what exactly I mean... Just.” He shook his head, not knowing how to explain it. How to express the fact every inch of him wanted Sam to touch him. How to explain that the desire had been growing for a while, confusing him because he knew the reasons came so naturally to others. But now it was getting to the point where not having that contact, was his way of punishing himself. Something had changed, and even if he couldn’t understand why, he needed Sam to know it.

“Well.” Sam took a deep breathe. “Emotions are draining...sometimes you just need someone to hold you. Touch is, really comforting. It’s normal to what more of it when you’re going through something big.”

If it was at all possible, Castiel looked even more confused.

“I… don’t just mean now.” He clarified carefully, watching as Sam’s eye widened. “It’s been an ongoing desire. Exclusive to you.”

“Oh.” Sam bit his lip. He hadn’t exactly expected that. “Yeah, that’s ummm…” He trailed off, not knowing what he was supposed to say. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, missing a beat as his eyes made contact with the angels. He actually….? He breathed out, biting at the corners of his lips to stop him from grinning. He knew exactly what he meant now, it was something he dreamt about, something that never seemed like it would quite be real. Castiel tilted his head again, waiting patiently. Wondering why Sam’s cheeks were heating up. “More to do with..” The man coughed. “... attraction and biological- urges.” He nodded his head as if that explained everything and Castiel raised an eyebrow. “When bonds become- deeper- we naturally want to explore those things more. So what you're experiencing is… that.”

“Right.” Castiel replied, his other eyebrow lifting up to join the first. Wondering if to another human Sam words would be clearer.

“So you get it?” Sam asked, almost hopeful. Cas’ deadpan expression however soon dashed that.

“No.”

The hunter ducked his head, laughing at himself more than anything. He was hardly surprised. “Yeah I’m not making much sense am I?”

Castiel shook his head. That was an understatement. He was glad they could at least agree on that.

Sam licked his lips, seemingly contemplating, his eyes flickering down to Cas’ mouth.

“Maybe I can explain it another way.” Slowly, he moved his hand along the angel’s shoulder blades, until his fingers cupped the back of his head. “What your wanting. Is more of this.” He leant forward slightly and for once Castiel found himself knowing what was going to happen next.  He tightened his own hold around the hunter, encouraging him to move forward more and tilted his head just in time to meet his lips perfectly.

He felt Sam’s move against his, his heartbeat picking up pace, as fingers traced through his hair. He wrapped his arms more around the hunter’s body pulling him towards him, wanting his chest pressed against him.

He remembered all too late that the man was still on his knees. He could feel it happening before Sam himself even realised. The hunter’s weight instantly knocked him off balance too and neither of them had time to put their arms out to break the fall before Castiel was tipping backwards. Sam landing ontop of him with a bump.

For a moment neither of them moved, then Sam lifted himself up slightly, looking down at the angel. That was all it took for them both to crack up. Sam’s head tipping back as his whole body vibrated against Castiel’s.

“I may have miscalculated your stability.”  Castiel said when the laughter died down. Sam leant forward ducking his head into Castiel’s chest as he shoulders shook in amusement.

“If you wanted me to lie on you you only had to ask.” He looked up and winked. Taking both himself and Castiel by surprise. The angel’s arms were still around his back, and he slipped them down lower, holding Sam by either side of his hips instead.

“I will remember that.” He said, with an all too serious expression. Sam blinked, having a funny feeling that he probably would. “So.” Cas continued, moving one of his hands around to the dip of Sam’s back. He smiled up at him as he raised his eyebrows. “You were saying?”

Sam had to swallow down a gulp, the angel’s face still mere inches away from his own. He could see every single individual piece of stubble from that position.

“Right.”  He didn’t manage to say another word, as an eager hand pressed him in closer and his lips found their way back to their marker.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame the last scene for the time it's taken me to finish this. Couldn't make it fit with the dialogue and make Cas in the right frame of mind for it to happen naturally :')


	34. Chapter 34

Bobby heard the footsteps approaching before his front door even opened and quickly found himself rolling his eyes. Sam was an excellent hunter, there was no denying that, but by God did he have a habit of not paying attention to where his feet landed these days. A blame he placed firmly on a certain angel’s shoulders. Apparently staring adoringly into a pair of blue eyes gave overly large limbs the chance to take on a life of their own.

Granted it was entertaining to watch at first, they were like two clueless baby ducks attempting to swim through sand.  After a while though, you kind of just wanted to give them a gentle shove into the nearest pond.

Honestly, if he had not already suspected before, then Sam’s vigilant watch over the angel crashed on his coach a week or so back may have got the cogs turning a little.  The hair patting, the hand caressing, the insistence to help him shower… He had had to pinch himself a few times to make sure he hadn’t walked in on some stepford wives show.

“It’s not funny Sam, it’s… sticky.” He heard as the hinges creaked and a small breeze touched the back of his neck. He lifted his head, an amused smirk filling his old features.  Sticky, didn’t quite seem like it belonged in Castiel’s vocabulary. Then again, in theory neither did Sam.

“It was your idea!” Sam replied and Bobby could just imagine the smile he would be wearing as he stared down at the angel, probably swinging their combined hands back and forth.  He blinked, momentarily taken aback by his own assumption, then he shrugged, because yeah, that sounded about right.

“Yes, but I received no warning of the implications.”

The hunter turned his head to the alcove as the voices got closer. A part of him now expecting to see hands snapping apart as they rounded the corner. What he didn't expect however, was the state of their appearance.

“What the hell happened to you?” He demanded as they came into view. If he had time to consider what he had just heard, he might not have been so surprised. But he didn’t and there were leaves sticking out of their hair and dark wet patches covering various parts of their attire. It looked like they’d just taken a nosedive into the nearest swamp. Then thrashed around for good measure.

He cut all further thoughts off however as they turned to him and the redness of their lips caught his eye.

Maybe it was best he didn’t know.

“Long story…” Sam shrugged. It was only at that point Cas seemed to notice their extra baggage and he reached up, pulling a twig from the tangles of Sam’s hair. He tossed it to the side without a second thought as the hunter’s cheeks took on an a slightly pinker shade.

Bobby looked away, pulling up another web page. Purposely choosing to not take note of how close they were standing to each other.

It was safe to say, if he suddenly found his house ‘haunted’ again over the next few days, he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asked, breaking his eye contact with Cas. The angel took a small step back as he rolled his shoulders, looking marginally uncomfortable. A subtle, barely noticeable move of his hips followed and he quickly reached behind his trench coat, pulling a face.

The hunter decided to add that to the list of things he didn’t want an explanation for. They’d probably given themselves worms.

“Don’t worry I didn’t try and shoot ‘im. He’s brooding. Through there.” He replied, nodding his head towards the kitchen. Sam automatically turned to it as Castiel narrowed his eyes, peering suspiciously at the gun still lying on the table. If Bobby didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he was searching for signs of it having been used.

“Dean, you alright?” Sam called out, turning away from them both. He had barely taken a few steps however, when Bobby cleared his throat.

“You might wanna read this first.” He said, reaching for his glass as he twisted the laptop around. Sam paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Why? What is it?” He turned uncertainly when he got no reply, just in time to see Bobby shrug. The man leaned back in his chair as he raised the glass to his lips -  If he wanted to know that, he would have to come and see it for himself. He hadn’t spent all afternoon Deansitting just to spoon feed them information too.

For a moment, Sam looked torn, before he shook his head and headed back towards him. There was no way Bobby would make up Dean being there if he wasn't. He faltered mid stride however as he noticed Castiel pulling at the waistband of his jeans, his face bunching up in discomfort as he had to peel the material of off himself.

“Cas…”

The angel looked to him, picking up on some sort of warning in Sam’s tone. Like he was anticipating him going a step further and removing his trousers completely. He uncurled his fingers with a great reluctance, his cheek muscles tightening in response as the material snapped back into place.

He frowned.

He had tried, but he couldn’t put up with it a moment longer.

“I may need some other pants Sam, making out with you has made these ones very wet.”

Bobby choked, almost inhaling his drink as the water took an unexpected detour to his lungs. Within seconds traces of the liquid dripped out of his nose and he coughed. His hand coming up to catch it. Suddenly extremely grateful that he hadn’t gone for the whiskey bottle instead.

 _“Cas!”_ Sam hissed, mortified, his cheeks flushing red.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that.”

Sam’s eyes darted back towards him, his mouth gaping. "No. Uh, Oh God...It's- it’s not what it sounds like.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows.

“Boy, I think **God** is the last person you want to involve in this.”

Perhaps it made him a terrible person, but he very much enjoyed the look that quickly passed over Sam’s features. Hey if he had to suffer, then it was only fair the other in law was brought into the equation too.

“Christ no-Fuck.” His cringed and Bobby had to press his lips together to stop himself from smirking.

Revenge was sweet.

He turned back to his computer as Sam desperately tried to backtrack, words flowing out faster than what his brain could process. It remained him very much of when the kid was seven and had taken an interest in history. It had been necessary to learn to tune him out at times then too.

He clicked on the new google alert, bringing up the next page and quickly scanned the article it provided. He glanced back to Sam when he was done,  vaguely registering Cas having spoken. What ever he said, must have been worse than before because Sam's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade, if that was at all possible.

He thanked the heavens he’d managed to escape hearing it.

“That’s not helping!” That comment was directed to the angel, who was by now stood leaning against a radiator, with folded arms and squinted eyes. He didn’t look like he had clue what was going on. Sam turned his attention back to Bobby, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. “I-lost my balance.” He explained, his head moving a little more vigorously. “We weren’t...” He trailed of, lifting his hands and sort of doing a sideways clapping motion.

Bobby simply blinked, suddenly understanding exactly how Castiel must have been feeling.

_And how exactly was he meant to interpret that?_

He raised one of his eyebrows and just gave the man a ‘look’.

Sam squeezed his eyes close, very aware of how this coming across. He dropped his shoulders and bowed his head in defeat.

“..Doing anything.” He finished anyway.

Bobby couldn’t keep the snort at bay, especially as Castiel opened his mouth as if to contradict the statement.

“Yeah, and I was born on mars with a trophy up my ass.” Bobby replied, the eyebrow staying put.

Sam’s visibly jolted.

“What?”

“Exactly. Now get over it and come read this. You pair of daft ducks.”

The older hunter reached for the laptop again, gesturing to the webpage he had up. Ignoring the similar looks both the hunter and the angel gave him. If they didn’t know, he couldn’t be bothered to explain it to them.

Though he was glad they had at least found a puddle, maybe now he could get his sanity back.

As Sam took a few steps forward, placing his hands on the edge of the desk and leaning over, Castiel glanced towards the kitchen.

“I’ll just… check on Dean.” He had been far too quiet throughout all of this. Not even a scraping of a chair came from his direction. It made the angel slightly more nervous than he cared to admit. Stiffly, he pushed himself off of the one chance he had at drying his clothes and walked towards the alcove. Trying to figure out why he and Sam were apparently birds now.

He paused as he turned the corner,  blinking at the sight that greeted him.  “Why is he handcuffed to the refrigerator?”

Sam, having not even read past the headline, shot a look over his shoulder. His forehead creasing up. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bobby beat him to it.

“He tried to pull a fast one.” The hunter replied nonchalantly, causing Sam’s attention to dart back to him.

“You serious?” He asked, not quite believing it wasn't some sort of prearranged joke. When he received a nod, he straightened himself up and headed over to where Castiel was stood, his back still to them.

He peered around the corner and sure enough, sat on the floor, his arm handcuffed to the handle, was Dean. Looking completely and utterly done with the world.

“What?” Bobby shrugged as both the men turned to face him. “Told him not to run.”

Sam didn’t quite manage to fight off a laugh.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Its hilarious.” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Where the hell have you been anyway? Do you know how long i’ve been stuck here for?” Castiel purposely avoided his attention landing anywhere near Dean’s face as he turned back to look in his general direction. Not quite wanting to meet his eyes just yet.  “Never mind the gawping Juliet, get the damn key.”

Castiel spared a look to Sam, unsure which of them he was referring to. He watched as the hunter, still smiling, reached into his jacket pocket and fiddled with something inside. Dean nodded his head, pressing his lips together and Castiel could only presume it was meant to be some sort of signal to tell the younger Winchester to hurry the hell up.

Patience never had been his strong point.

He was about to ask Sam how he could possibly have a key to a pair of handcuffs he didn’t know were being used, when he realised it was a phone he was retrieving instead.

“Don’t you dare.” Dean warned, apparently seeing something coming that the angel could not.

Sam crouched down in front of him, flipping the camera app open.

“Sorry, too good an opportunity.” Lifting the phone, he turned it around and held his arm out as far as it would go. “Cas come here!” He grinned, indicating with his head to the spot beside him.

“I’m warning you...” Dean threatened, his expression darkening.

Castiel gave the hunter an odd look, before hesitantly taking a step forward and moving himself so he was in the same position as Sam, just on the other side of Dean.

“Smile.”

Castiel raised his eyebrow, not completing the request as he glanced at the hunter as if he had just grown an extra head. He watched as his spare hand moved to point to his brother.  If looks could kill he would have dropped dead on that very spot.

He heard a click, and then Sam was suddenly pulling an overly exaggerated face. He couldn't help the warm smile that grew on his own in response. There was just something about it that was captivating to him.

“One more?”

Not knowing what he was doing, Cas nodded and attempted to copy the expression Sam had worn. Curling his top lip up and bunching his nose. He felt all together too ridiculous, there were better things they could be doing. But at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He was not used to seeing Sam being silly and he found he quite liked the way it made his heart feel like it was swelling up in his chest.

All too soon, Sam was on his feet again.

“You’ll pay for that. The both of you.” Dean warned, causing Castiel to frown. What had he done? He reached a hand out behind him as his balance wavered and awkwardly pushed himself back into a standing position too.

“How did this even happen?” Sam asked, sobering himself up completely as he folded his arms across his chest.

Dean puffed out a huff of air, his eyes flickering upwards. “Bobby’s a ninja. With or without legs.”

As if that explained anything.

“Watch it boy, or you’ll you will find yourself having to use a plant pot as a toilet tonight.” Bobby replied, wheeling into the room and stopping just shy of the table. Castiel simply blinked as his eyes scanned over each of them individually. There was some things he was pretty sure he would never come to understand. Their interactions were one of them.

“I’d take him seriously if I were you.” Sam said,  earning himself a serious glare.

“Bite me.”

Castiel somehow doubted that was a literal request. Who would willingly invite anyone to do that to them?

“Would you two knock it off. ” Bobby demanded, lifting the computer off his lap and holding it out to Sam. He didn’t have to repeat his earlier request as Sam immediately reached for it and started scanning the article.

“What's happening?” Dean asked, directing the question to Bobby as Castiel walked to Sam’s side and squinted at the screen.

Bobby didn’t reply.

Possible terrorist attack in Wisconsin. The outskirts of town were hit by a terrifying explosion. Eight bodies have already been recovered from the site with severe burns to the eyes. Information on the substance released in the blast are as of yet unknown but people are warned to stay away from the infected area. All glass structures were shattered within a 5 mile radius. The sheriff is still unavailable for comment.

“Look at the time stamp… that's when you…” Sam trailed off, but he didn’t need to complete the sentence for Cas to know what he was referring to. “What the hell are we missing here?”

Dean pulled a face, waving his free hand in the air. Almost as if it was a polite request, Sam reached over and handed the device down to him, his eyes staying firmly on the angel.

Castiel folded his arms, swallowing hard. Of course, how could he have been so stupid?

“Someone’s taken a vessel.” He replied carefully, almost certain that was the case. He flicked his eyes back over to meet Sam’s as Dean’s head shot up over the laptop screen.

“But why would heaven protest that?” Sam asked. From what he had experienced, the consent issue could not be bypassed and there had been no complaints for the way the angels had treated them so far. If torturing someone to change their will wasn’t a problem, then what the hell was? It didn’t make sense.

“Guys...”

Castiel shrugged, his lips drawing into a thin line. Without being able to listen to the celestial wavelengths, he was as clueless as any of them.

“It wouldn’t. We need to investigate this.” Quickly. He added mentally. There was something major going on and he did not like it. Not one bit. He could feel the back of his neck prickling as hair’s there stood up on end. An instinct he didn’t quite understand demanding he heed his body’s warning.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh.“Sam.”

“Investigate what? They don’t seem the type to leave witnesses.” Bobby injected, not paying the older WInchester the slightest bit of attention.

Dean rolled his eyes. What did he need a siren? Was it really that hard for them to turn their attention to the man on the floor? Especially as he seemed to be the only one using his brain.

“HEY!” He shouted and three sets of eyes turned to face him almost in union. He turned the laptop around, pointing at the picture on the side of the screen. The one they had all clearly been overlooking. He swallowed, his eyes instantly going straight over to Sam’s. Of all the people, he should have recognised it. He was the sentimentalist. “That’s where we burnt Adam’s body.”

It was only because of how close Castiel was stood to Sam, did Dean catch the exact moment the colour drained from his face. He frowned, studying him carefully, an uneasy feeling rising in his gut. Life had long ago taught him not to believe in coincidences and if Castiel’s reaction was anything to go by, he had a horrible feeling the end was near.

Sam must have followed his gaze, because he was soon turning his attention to the angel too.

“What does that mean?”

Castiel looked away, out of the small kitchen window, cursing. How? How had he not considered this a possibility before? The archangels had cut their own leashes, of course they would go that far.

“It means...” He paused, slowly turning back around to look Dean in the eye for the first time since he almost buried his head in the wall. He had expected to feel some form of guilt, but that was pushed aside as the worry convulsed through him instead. “The decision to become a vessel may  have just been taken out of Dean’s hands.”

\------------------

“Sam, this is not a good idea.” Castiel spoke as he pulled at his shirt, lifting it over his head and dropping the material to the floor. He cast a glance to Sam before he turned and reached for the clothes Bobby had provided him with. He held the t-shirt in one hand, unable to keep the displeasure of his features. The older hunter had told him that these would be a ‘better fit’ than the Winchester’s on him. He wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but they certainly didn’t feel any better beneath his fingertips.

In fact they felt old and rough, like the fabric could fall apart at any moment. There was also an odd smell to them. Like they had been stored away somewhere damp and dark for years.

“It will be fine.” Sam replied, and Castiel turned his attention back to him with a frown. He did not sound at all convinced by his own statement. Sam gave him a small smile, almost as if he knew that too. He looked away and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to remove the rest of the debris.

Castiel dropped his hand, the clean clothes quickly discarded as he took a few steps towards him.

“If I am wrong, if Michael has not already taken Adam as his vessel, then we will be walking right into a trap. Taking Dean to him ourselves.” Sam turned back, unable to resist his eyes flashing down to his bare chest, even if it was just for a moment.

“You don’t think I know that?” He asked,  reaching for his duffle bag. Of course he knew the risk he was taking. But he also knew they couldn’t live like this for the rest of their lives. Keeping Dean under lock and key, not being able to take their eyes off of him for even a second, it was no solution. That stress, that constant worry, it would send them to an early grave far before the archangels ever would. No. They needed this sorted. He needed his brother back.

Castiel frowned again and spared a glance towards the wall, where he knew the man in question was still sat on the other side.

“Then would it not be best for Dean to stay here?” He suggested, lowering his voice  a fraction, just encase he could hear them through the thin plaster. He doubted he would appreciate the suggestion.

Sam shook his head, pulling out a brush and running it through the back of his hair. Wincing as he pulled at one spot in particular, trying to loosen the tangled strands. Most of the time his fingers did the trick but it just wasn’t working now. “We need him, we can’t do this without him.”

Perhaps the more accurate statement would have been, he couldn’t. Although he had a feeling that Castiel knew that one already.

“But if he-”

“He won’t. Okay, he won’t. I believe in him….” The angel’s expression said it all and Sam rolled his eyes, his cheek twitching as he contemplated reaching for some scissors. “Don’t. He won’t let us down.” And in all honestly, he believed that. He really did. Dean always came through in the end. Surely, after everything he owed him the chance to prove he would again?

Castiel stepped closer, shaking his head and moving to take the brush from Sam’s hand. He motioned with his finger for Sam to turn around and when he did, reached up to run it through his hair himself.

“You don’t know that for sure.” He said, pressing on Sam’s shoulder and guiding him down onto the couch’s armrest so he could get a better look. He always seemed to forget the height difference until it really mattered. He took hold of the roots just above the knot, taking great care not pull on them as he ran the brush through.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt him.

Sam shook his head.

“Be still.”

“Cas, you don’t understand Dean like I do. No one does. And I know why you're worried. But honestly I wouldn’t risk it if I thought for a moment he would say yes.” He replied, but he stopped moving all the same.

“Maybe I know that too, but does that mean I have to like it?” He smiled as the ball of spikes came free. He ran his hand through Sam’s hair where it had been a few times after, making sure there was nothing left. Nothing there that would cause him any further discomfort.

When he drew his hand away, Sam swiveled around to face him. It was funny, like this, they were almost at eye level. He was tempted to reach out, to tuck the pieces of Sam’s hair that fell into his face, behind his ear. But he refrained. Now was not the time.

“Of course not.” Sam replied, his eyes flickering up. “But I know my brother. I trust him.”

“Then your a fool.”

They both turned as Bobby came back into the room, his expression set. Castiel took a step back, automatically reaching for the T-shirt and making a move to actually put it on.

Sam shook his head again, his shoulders deflating slightly. “Not you too.”  

“I’m sorry Sam.” Bobby shrugged.

He knew why he had to hold that hope, and he honestly couldn’t blame him for it. But he couldn’t sit back and let him make yet another mistake either, not when it would cost them all so dearly. He had heard the conversation and Dean’s expression had said it all. He would say yes in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t leave Adam to that fate if he could help it. Sam might have hoped that he could save them both, but he knew better and deep down, he was sure Sam did too. He just wasn’t ready to face it.

“Look, when push comes to shove, he will make the right call.” Sam insisted, looking between the two of them, as Castiel reached for the clean trousers next. He didn’t say anything though. If that’s what Sam had already decided, then there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was far too stubborn to change his mind.

“I know you want to believe that, but come on Sam, you're damn well smarter than this.” Bobby continued, reaching for a pair of socks and chucking them towards Cas, indicating with his head towards the bathroom. Castiel paused in his movements to remove his jeans, catching the bundle with ease as he followed the man’s gaze.

It took him a moment to realise what it was he was wanting from him.

“Maybe. But he’s still my big brother.” Sam sighed, stepping to the side as Castiel rolled his eyes and headed with the lower half of his clothing out of the room. As the hunter glanced down at the thin material, he couldn’t help but think they needed to take the angel clothes shopping for his own stuff some time soon. “And I’m not giving up on him. He’s coming. Okay. He’s coming.”

Bobby just looked away. “Well on your head be it boy.”

\----

Stopping outside an abandoned warehouse, Dean parked the Impala just out of view. Frowning as he took in the scene around him. The place did not look guarded in the slightest. There didn’t seem to be sigils keeping anyone out on the walls either. It just looked like a normal building set to be demolished some time soon. It was certainly did not look like it contained the beautiful room he remembered so well.

Yet Castiel insisted this was the place.

He shared a look with Sam, before they both in usion turned to the angel in the back seat. He wouldn’t put it past him to lead them on a wild goose chase.

“Are you sure they’re in there?” It just didn’t feel right to him. Usually buildings, which contained any hint of supernatural activity,  made him feel something. This was just, bland. Unexciting. Not even kids would want to break in there.

Then again, he supposed that could be the idea. The angels were hardly ones to want anyone sniffing around.

“No. But if there is one place on earth they would be, it's here.” Castiel replied, his face as straight as ever. He’d been quiet on the journey, Dean could almost feel the eyes glaring into the back of his head the entire drive. He supposed he deserved it. Though he had given them both fair warning on what he would do if they brought him. If Cas really didn't want him here, then he should have fought Sam harder. Not giving in like the whipped little boyfriend his brother was turning him into.

“I still think we should have gone to Wisconsin.” He argued, looking back to Sam. He’d been equally as quiet. It made the whole journey rather uncomfortable. Like a thick fog was surrounding each of them. He met his brother’s eyes, but he was surprised to find nothing but certainty there. It was rather eerie, realising he believed Castiel for why they should be here, and that Dean would be coming back with them. He felt a pang of something in his chest. Whatever happened beyond those doors, one of them was going to be letting him down today.m He hoped with everything he had, that it would be him.

If he could just get to Michael, then Sam and Cas would be safe and this whole thing would be over.

He could deal with them hating him if it meant they walked out of that building alive.

“Well I don’t.” Castiel replied, his voice rough, the words almost being forced out. Sam’s eyes traveled back to the angel as he mouthed something to him. Breathe perhaps? Castiel glanced away, but Dean didn’t fail to notice the angel’s shoulders sagging a little. The anger depleting. He raised his eyebrow, looking between them. What ever had happened on that little walk, had certainly had an impact. He had honestly thought the angel was going to attack him at one stage. Even as he continued to goad him and Bobby. He wasn’t entirely convinced a part of him didn’t want Cas to do it either. But there was no signs of that now, just some sort of silent understanding between two of the most important people in his life.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Look. I’ll clear everyone out. You two look for Adam. Just be quick about it.”

“Whoa, wait. If there are angels in there, then how are you gonna take them on?” One powerless dude against God only knows how many angels? It didn’t take a math genius to work out how that one would end.

Castiel didn't reply, instead he pulled at his tie and it took Dean a moment to realise he was undoing it. He saw Sam frown as he pulled it off completely and placed it in his trench coat’s pocket.

“Cas?” Sam questioned, his lips pressing together as finally, the worry started to creep onto his face. “What are you planning?”

The angel looked to him, his eyes guarded and Dean found his expression soon matching his brothers. That was never a good look and he wasn’t about to leave Sam all on his own. He didn’t want to know what path he would turn down if he lost Cas and him on the same day…

“Just trust me.” He said softly, his hand reaching out and squeezing Sam’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare break our promise!” Sam swallowed, trying to bury the bile that rose up his throat. Because he knew that look all too well, the one everyone wore when they were about to do something that could potentially get them killed. Not even a day had passed yet since they sat in the wasteland and swore they would try their hardest to be there at the end of all this. Jumping head first in front of a gun- or in this case angels- did not honor that.

Castiel smiled softly. A smile that wasn’t meant for his rough features if you asked Dean.

“I won’t.” He sat forward, so he was closer to Sam, his face mere inches away as he looked directly into his eyes. “You have my word on that. I will return to you”

Dean had to resist the urge to gag, as he undid his seatbelt and exited the car.  As obvious as they had been lately, he didn’t need to see the floor show.

He was rather surprised when only moments later,  the other doors opened.

“This is suicide.” He said as Castiel took a step out of the shadows and towards the gate. He knew it, Sam knew it. So why were they pretending otherwise?

“Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail. I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t have the same faith in you that Sam does.”

Sam didn’t hear that, and Dean found, despite everything he was grateful for small mercies.

Castiel reached back into his pocket as Sam walked around to join them. He pulled out a small retractable knife and pushed the blade out, a determined look crossing his features.

“What the hell are you gonna do with that?” Sam demanded, his eyes widening. Castiel didn’t answer, just spared them one last look before walking forwards and forcing the gates open.

“Just be ready.”

Dean held his hand up, pressing the back of it to Sam’s chest as his brother took a step forward in protest. He shook his head.

“You heard him. Trust him.” Though he too had a horrible feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the angel disappear.

Sam sank back, worry and dread flashing across his features. Dean soon found himself fisting a handful of Sam’s shirt, beating his hand against his chest in an attempt at reassurance.

Not fifteen minutes later, did blinding lights flash through the warehouse windows. Angel’s departing in all sorts of directions. It only took them seconds to work out the reason why.

“CAS!” Sam shouted and Dean was running before the man even got a chance to start.

If they were about to find a body, then he would do everything in his power to prevent his little brother from seeing those burn out wings.

\------

He opened his eyes slowly,  his surroundings blurry and unfixed. He squeezed them close again for a moment, moving his head just a fraction to the side. It was bright and everything hurt. His head, his chest... his stomach felt like it had been sliced in two. He moved his arm, intending to cover his eyes, but flinched as something almost seemed to move inside of it.

He took a deep breathe, trying to settle the alarm bells. With great reluctance he forced his eyes to try again open. He curled his lip, shifting slightly as the white ceiling warped. He tried to concentrate, to get everything back into focus. When the room finally stilled, he glanced down.  There seemed to be some sort of wire sticking out of his skin, a large clip stuck to the end of his finger. He moved his head to the the right, looking around, trying to determine where he was.

It was only at the moment he realised he was lying down, a thin sheet laying over his waist, a machine beeping by his head. Monitoring his heart rate. He let out a small groan.

What had happened?

How did he get here?

He remembered very little, just one very bright light. And pain. So much pain. Like there was something crawling around his body, trying to rip him apart at the seams. He was pretty sure it had succeeded, torn him in a way he could never recover from.

There were other noises, going on around him, outside the small room he had been placed in. Alone. That felt wrong. If he were truly in a hospital, then were there not supposed to be people with him? Willing him to wake? His family? HIs friends?

Was he found alone?

Did they know who he was?

He pushed down on his hands, trying to get himself into a sitting position. He almost let out a scream as his side came alive. Fire and pins all at once. He threw his head back, breathing in and out.

That had hurt, hurt more than it possibly should have.

Once again he found himself asking what had happened?

His mind could not provide an answer.

“You're awake.” He glanced towards the voice, watching a nurse walk into the room.

He was, but he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

It left him in a circle of confusion.

Somehow he doubted this woman could help him either.

“How are you feeling James?” She asked.

He frowned. Was that his name? It didn’t feel like it.

His eyes widened considerably when he realised he didn’t know.

He could see the woman’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear the words, the world around him falling silent. Spinning. The monitor told him his heartbeat had picked up pace. He wasn’t surprised. How could it not when he had no idea … about anything.

Who was he?

Who was he????

“We found your wallet.” She reached into a draw by his side. He didn’t even remember seeing her move from the bottom of his bed. His attention snapped to her, the panic evident.  “Do you remember what happened?” She asked as she digged inside.

Fire and pain and a light so bright.

He shook his head.

At least he still knew how to do that.

“You were unconscious when you were brought in, you had taken quite a knock, but don’t worry I’m sure it will come back to you. Here.” She handed a black leather pouch to him, the wallet he soon realised.

He opened it up tentatively, looking inside.

He hit his head? He definitely did not remember a fall.

Just the light and screams and curses and things wanting him to explode into pieces of matter.

He looked at the picture on the first card he could see. A driving licence.

Was that him?

Was that what he looked like?

He supposed it must be. It didn’t feel right though.

“So can I call you James? Or would you prefer Mr Novak?” She asked, and he glanced back to her, his forehead creasing. He shook his head. There was another name on his tongue.

He swallowed, his eyes moving about as he mulled that over.  

“No.” He said finally. Placing the card back where it came from. “It’s Jimmy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *offers up a plate of cookies*


	35. Chapter 35

He ran a single finger around where he knew the circle was carved into his chest, wincing. They had stitched parts of him up and he could almost feel the string pulling his skin back together again. There was an infection raging, making the edges red and the middle weep. Even through the bandage he could see the ugly colour creeping to the surface. It made him feel so impure, and his stomach lunged every time he so much as caught a glimpse.

He'd asked if there would be scars. It seemed important to know somehow. The sympathetic looks he received in return had answered that question better than words ever could.

He closed his eyes, hitting his head softly back against the hospital pillows.

What had he got himself involved in?

Some sort of cult?

The police had been by to talk to him twice, but he still could not provide them with any answers.

A white light and paralysing fire was hardly a description they could work with.

The doctors said his memory would come back, that the trauma may be keeping it at bay, but so far there had been nothing. No flashes, no names, no memories of his time before waking up in that bed. He didn't know where he had grown up, what he had been doing with his life, if he had family, friends?

Sometimes, he thought he could picture his own hand holding a small pocket knife, carving the symbols into his chest. A few times he had found himself wanting to ask for pen and paper, just to see if he could draw that near perfect circle.

He had refrained every time, however.

He did not want to know if he was capable of stabbing a blade through flesh. Even if it was his own.

"Mr Novak, I'm Doctor Foster, a psychiatrist here at the hospital. I was wondering if we could have a chat?"

He rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window. The sky was dull, the clouds heavy; it seemed like it would rain soon. His lips tugged slightly at that thought, the idea of rain pleasing him somehow. He couldn't help but wonder if that was a new thing, or a link to his past.

"How are you feeling today?"

He didn't answer. He didn't want to answer. He knew why she was there and it had nothing to do with his lack of memory. The nurses expected him to be angry. Everyone kept telling him it was okay if he wanted to lash out, to express anger at what had happened to him. They made no secret of the fact that they thought his nonchalant attitude towards it all was a problem in itself.

But he couldn't help it.

He just wasn't feeling it.

Maybe it was because he couldn't remember. Or maybe the anger had just been sliced out of him when his body was used as sketch pad. He didn't know. But he didn't feel angry. Not towards the people that had done this to him, nor himself. The only thing he did feel in fact was this uncomfortable clench deep inside his gut whenever anyone repeated that statement back to him.

He couldn't explain it, but they weren't allowed to. They weren't allowed to mention anger to him.

It wasn't their place.

It could never be their place.

The first drop of rain fell and he gave a small half smile. He quite liked the thought of standing under it.

"I know this isn't easy for you."

He turned to look at the woman in the white coat, his expression falling.

She didn't know a thing.

 

* * *

 

On the fourth day, they told him he had been registered as a missing person nearly two years ago. That they had tried to contact his family but the house had been empty for months, with no forwarding address. Neighbours had said his wife and daughter had upped and left one day and that was that.

He looked down at his finger, where a ring should have been. There wasn't even a trace to indicate that there had ever been one. No indent, no change in his skin tone. Nothing to link him to the people they were speaking of.

"Their names are Claire and Amelia." He knew the doctors expected that to provoke a reaction in him. It didn't. They could have been the names of the people in the next room for all he cared.

Though it did bring him to wonder about one thing-

Just what kind of person was he, to leave them in the first place?

 

* * *

 

A technician managed to get his phone working on the fifth attempt. It contained just two contacts. 'Sam’ and ‘Dean.' Other than that, there were no pictures or text messages on the device. Nothing at all to link it to himself.

Perhaps it belonged to the cult. If he had even decided he was apart of a cult?

"Jimmy?"

He turned it over in his hand. It was battered and dented and the screen was scratched, his blood sticking into the cracks. Maybe it was best for him to just throw it away. What was the point of him having it anyway? It was near to useless.

"Jimmy." A hand touched his arm and he jumped, his attention flickering to the nurse in seconds, his instincts on high alert. He felt his shoulders tense up and square, his eyes narrow and harden. His whole body positioning itself to fight. "Woah easy, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

He forced himself to relax, letting out a small breath, not understanding where that reaction had come from. He had no reason to think he was in danger. No reason for the hair to be sticking up on the back of his neck. Yet it was and he felt it, running through his blood - an instinct, so deep he couldn't possibly follow it back to the source. One that was telling him he had to fight.

"Have you tried calling the voicemail?" She asked, not at all phased by his lack of verbal response. They had become rather used to his silence. For a while they wondered if he had some sort of brain damage. But no, he was too alert and he could speak, it was just he usually had nothing to say. "Here."

She reached out, dialling a number before handing the phone back to him and leaving the room, saying something about giving him some privacy. He wasn't sure there was any part of him that needed it.

He raised the phone to his ear slowly all the same, uncertain, his stomach tying itself in knots as it anticipated the things it could say. The parts of his life it could reveal.

If it revealed anything at all.

He wasn't sure which was worse.

_New messages._

'Cas? Please, if you get this call me.'

_Cas? Who was Cas?_

'Dude you have us worried sick here, where the hell are you?'

That was another voice, a deeper voice than the first. Were these supposed to be his friends? This Sam and Dean? A part of him had hoped if he heard their voices it would trigger something, but he just felt as confused as ever.

Who were they? And who the hell was he?

'Cas, damn it...Please tell me you're alright. You can not do this to us."

He frowned, realising what he had failed to detect in the first message. That man sounded upset. Worried about him. He closed his eyes, trying to picture their faces. Trying to force his mind to reveal something about them.

Anything.

He wasn't angry about what had happened to him, but he was starting to become frustrated with the lack of knowledge.

How could his mind know nothing?

How could it just forget people that were supposed to mean something to him.

Claire, Amelia, Sam and Dean?

This wasn't right, none of this felt right.

He almost hung up the phone.

'Cas come on man, this ain't funny. Just get in contact yeah?'

'Please, please tell me you did not carve that symbol into yourself. What the hell were you thinking? You're not immortal! We would have found another way! Christ, if the angels have you…" the voice paused. "Don't worry, we'll get you back. I swear to God."

His blood ran cold as he glanced down to his chest...well that at least cleared one mystery up. He guessed he really was a psychopath. He had to be right? To do that to himself? To create some fake name then take a knife to his own body?

Who the hell was he?

And why did the man have such an odd way of asking if he were dead?

'Damn it Cas.'

Yes, damn it, damn the world, damn himself. Damn everything. Including his own freakin mind. If this was supposed to be helping him, he'd rather have never picked up the device in the first place. None of this made any sense and his breathing was slowly getting heavier, harder to control.

He didn't understand any of it.

'Cas.'

He pulled the phone away, staring at the screen with his lips pressed firmly together.

Who the hell was he?

Who were these people?

And what had he been doing to need to butcher himself in the first place?

He pushed himself up off the pillows, gasping as the wounds stretched. He tried to swing his legs over the bed. He needed to stand, he needed to get out of there.

He collapsed back against the headboard, gasping, sweat sweeping across his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath.

He wasn't going anywhere.

The phone was still talking, so he raised it back to his ear.

There was nothing else to do anyway.

_Saved messages._

'Casssss… Cas. Hey! Sorry. Dean's not here. You should have answereD. Cus then I could tell you *hicup* why. I reallllly want to thank you. For being my friend. Even though I'm … you know. You don't need reminding. You're a good friend, but shhhhhh I won't tell God if you don't. It will be our secret .. Will I see you soon? I hope so, Cus' you know you're always welcome with us."

His forehead creased up and he pulled it away again, looking at it as if it had grown its own set of wings.

Why had he saved that? Of all things. The man was clearly intoxicated.

Though at least now he could put a name to each voice.

He sighed, dropping his hand heavily against the sheets.

This was all too much.

And he was exhausted.

 

* * *

 

_Pain and fire. Flashes of light so bright it could take your eyes out._

_He was desperate._

_He had to stop them..._

_A hand cutting down his chest, blood trickling down his front._

_His own screams._

_Their screams._

_Suites and blades._

_And his body ripping itself apart._

_A boiling pan of water and his hand inside. Cooking. Trembling._

_A body of a tall man lying lifeless on the ground._

_'Take me! NOT HER.'_

He sat up with a jolt, his entire face contorting in pain as the injury to his chest burned. He gasped, sweat pouring down the back of his neck. He pulled violently at his hospital gown, his hand searching for the wound, almost expecting the blood to be pouring out of it as he had seen just moments ago. He pulled at the tape, needing it to be free, needing the string out of his skin. It couldn't be there, it shouldn't have been there.

He pulled and scratched. This wasn't right. None of this was right.

This wasn't his home, it wasn't what he needed-

There were suddenly hands gripping at his shoulders, pushing him back down. Prying his bloody fingers away. He could hear the monitor behind him going crazy and he tried to force himself to sit up, to fight back against the people holding him down.

He was a soldier, and they were nothing. They had no power over him.

"Sir calm down. You must calm down."

"SAM."

He needed to get back. He needed to stop it. He needed to be there. He needed to get Dean and-

Something cold and sharp dug into his arm.

Then everything went blank.

 

* * *

 

"Jimmy?" He turned blankly, his stare almost vacant. He had gotten better at responding to his name. Or the name he told them, anyway. He was no longer sure that was who he was. There was a nurse in the doorway, another one. There never seemed to be the same one on duty. Unless he just couldn't remember their faces. How could he trust his own mind when it couldn't tell him anything about himself? "These men from the FBI want to talk to you."

She indicated behind her and he glanced to them. They were both tall. One more so than the other. Dressed in suits as you would expect.

"I'll leave you gentlemen too it. Go easy on him, he can't remember a lot."

He rolled his eyes. Couldn't remember anything more like. He was starting to think it was going to remain that way too.

"Thanks ma'am."

He blinked, taken aback by the voice. He narrowed his eyes and for the first time that day, really concentrated on his surroundings. It sounded so familiar to him. Gruff with hidden anger simmering  beneath the surface. He squinted, pulling apart every inch of the man who had spoken. His eyes were hard, haunted, and there was an air about him which he didn't quite understand.

Still he tried to. Wanting nothing more than to decipher his face and come to know something with absolute clarity.

He concentrated, scanning along the defined jawline, taking in the fullness of his lips and the symmetry of his face.

It had to mean something. It had to.

"Cas! You had us worried sick!" He recognised that voice too and frowned, turning his attention to the other agent. Sam and Dean worked for the FBI? Now that was a surprise. His heart sank however when he realised he was just remembering them from the phone calls. That he hadn't suddenly unlocked his mind. He tried to hide the disappointment as he looked the other man up and down. He was far taller, broader, than he had imagined. His eyes told him he had seen horrors too, but nowhere near the same level of his partner. There was still something there, something that had not been broken, made even more clear by the wave of colours that almost seem to encircle them. Not green or brown, but everything in between. It was fascinating.

Yet still unfamiliar.

Sam took a hopeful step forward, but the man's smile wavered as he looked away. He felt bad, but he couldn't face him, didn't want to face either of them. Dean moved further into the room too, in front of Sam, looking a less confident this time.

"You alright man?"

He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. These men, they wanted something from him, expected something from him, and he had a horrible feeling he was about to let them down. If he was completely honest, he kind of felt let down by them, too. Seeing them was supposed to trigger something, was supposed to tell him who he was. Tell him why his one and only saved message was a drunken one of all things. He was meant to have this explosion of feelings, to know the times they had laughed and cried together.

To be reminded why he carved something into his chest.

Was it to protect them?

To get away from them?

He didn't know.

He would never know.

There was nothing.

They were strangers.

Perhaps this was all pointless and Claire and Amelia would be too.

He swallowed, forcing the next words from his lips.

"... You are my friends?"

He needed it confirming. Needed to hear it from their mouths, to watch for even the slightest signs of them lying. To know he had pinned his hopes on the right people, even if he didn't get a result.

The look that crossed Sam's face made him wish he had kept his mouth shut.

Regret almost flooring him.

He couldn't have hurt him more if he had taken a knife to his chest and made him wear the same scar.

"You really did hit your head." Dean replied, glancing to Sam, almost like he knew he would be more affected by that statement. The man reached out, only slightly, as if he was wanting to put a comforting hand on his partner’s arm.

It didn't quite make it all the way and he frowned again.

He was missing something there.

"So I'm told. Why do you keep calling me Cas?"

He struggled over even asking that. But it seemed fundamental. Was it was a nickname? Had he changed his identity when he had left his wife? He knew nothing about himself, he needed for at least the name to be right. Maybe then everything else would fall into place.

The reaction from Sam was instant: He sucked in a breath, his eyes giving everything away in just a few seconds. He turned his back fairly quickly, stepping towards the wall, a shaky hand reaching to rub at his face.

Okay, so... There was one thing he had learnt about himself. He apparently had the uncanny ability to upset the younger man with very few words.

He needed to apologise. Say anything to remove that expression from his face.

He was fairly certain there was not a single person in the world who deserved to wear it less.

Dean swallowed. "Oh jeez. Okay. Jimmy. You remember us right? Do you know where Cas went? Is he… is he okay?"

He blinked.

Slowly, his mouth parting.

That… that did not make sense?

The man looked desperate, glancing around to make sure no one had heard him.

He shook his head. If it was at all possible he was even more confused than before.

"Am I… Meant to have a duplicate?" Or a mental illness? He was sure he had spotted a leaflet on multiple personalities. Was that what was going on here?

Was he unwell? Did he just need to take medication for things to start making sense again?

And had it really come to the stage where he was hoping that was an answer?

Dean's eyes widened dramatically and the two agents quickly shared a concerned look.

Okay. So maybe that wasn't it at all.

"What? No." Dean's eyes narrowed, as if he suspected he was playing some sort of game with them. Whatever he was trying to find in his expression, he must have found, because he swallowed hard and let out a low whistle, raising his eyebrows. "So you really don't remember anything? Like... _Anything_ , anything?"

He made some strange spinning motion with his finger.

He could only bring himself to blink. "No."

He really had pinned his hopes on the wrong people.

The wrong and very strange people.

"Well then you could be Cas?... I mean he sounds like Cas, sort of" The last part was directed to Sam, his voice lowering. He chose not to point out that with the size of the room, he could still hear him anyway.

It was his brain that was injured after all, not his ears.

Maybe he was slow on the uptake?

"I don't… Know." He let his arms flop to his sides. Giving up on thinking this would help him. They clearly had no more of an idea than he did. What had his voice got to do with whether he was himself or some unknown twin? Identicals sounded the same too right?

Perhaps it was the way he spoke.

He looked back to Sam as the man turned his head to face him again. His movements were hesitant, as if he was trying to protect himself.

From him?

He certainly hoped not.

He held his gaze as Sam walked towards the end of the bed, resting his hands on top of the bars. He didn't say anything, but for some reason he couldn't look away. Almost transfixed. There was certainly something about this man that captured his attention.

"Do you recognise me at all?"

He thought about lying, about giving him some sort of false hope. He didn't know him, but he certainly didn't want to hurt him either. Not when he had done so already.

He opened his mouth, the 'yes' on the tip of his tongue. It wouldn't come out though, no matter how hard he pushed. So eventually he simply shook his head.

That was apparently the second thing he had learnt about himself today.

He could upset Sam, but he could not lie to him.

The man closed his eyes, ducking his head, and he had to look away.

Apparently he didn't like letting him down either.

 

* * *

 

Things were awkward for the rest of their visit to say the least. Dean didn't seem to have much patience and he could only say he didn't know something so many times. Sam barely spoke two further words. Whenever he looked at him, he just seemed upset, then guilty, then he'd look away again.

It was a horrible pattern that he would have done anything to break.

He was starting to get the distinct impression they were close. Or Cas and Sam were close anyway. Close enough that his lack of recollection affected him on a much deeper level than it did Dean. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

They tried telling him stories, but that's all they were to him, stories. He didn't connect with a single one. None of them felt like they had happened to him, none of them tugged at anything in the corner of his mind. He may as well have been reading out of newspaper.

He knew they were leaving bits out, too. Dean would pause, choose his next words carefully, or go off in another direction altogether. It was disheartening to say the least, and made him realise more and more that he wasn't the man they were looking for.

Later on, as he watched them walk out the door, Sam barely managing a goodbye, he was struck by the realisation that that was it. That would be the last he would see of them. He wasn't related to them. He was not their responsibility and when he was fit to leave, he would have no one waiting for him. Nowhere to go.

He sunk back against the wall, turning to watch the rain outside again. His expression returned to the blank mask he had been wearing before.

That was fine.

He didn't need them.

He didn't need anyone.

 

* * *

 

"Here. I often find comfort in this when I need it the most."

He glanced down as a nurse placed a small red book on the side of his bed. He refused to look up as she walked away again, his eyes fixed on the cover. He at the very least knew what it was. A bible. Carefully he reached out to gather it in his hands. He ran a finger along the spine, but when his eyes landed on the cross, he flung the thing across the room.

He didn't understand where the rage came from, but it shot through him before he had the chance to process it. All he knew at that moment was he wanted it and its words and its promises as far away from him as possible.

They were empty and belief wouldn't help anyone. Least of all him.

That was the fourth thing he learnt about himself.

He did not care for the word of God.

He lay back down in the bed, pulling the covers up high over himself.

He had had enough.

Enough of all of it.

He was done trying to understand.

 

* * *

 

A soft knock on the door the following day caused him to do nothing more than turn his head to face it, not bothering to try and sit up. It hurt and it was only going to be someone else wanting to prod and poke at him. Asking him questions that they should know he didn't have the answers too.

Do you remember what happened?

Do you know what day it is?

How are you feeling?

It infuriated him.

And if that damn blonde Foster women brought in the 'smiley-frowny chart' again he was going to start aiming for the window.

Hey. What do you know? He was an angry person after all.

"Hi." He blinked in surprise, instantly reaching behind him to push himself into a sitting position. Sam? "I- I brought you some things. Cus, you know, hospital food sucks."

He held out a bag, his lips twitching into a brief yet soft smile. He hovered by the doorway for a moment, before taking a deep breath, almost like he was trying to prepare himself and stepping inside.

"You came back?"

He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. He honestly never thought he would. He wasn't who he wanted him to be. So why would he ever return? Why would he set himself up for more hurt?

The man looked taken aback by the question. Which he supposed was at least a step up from him being upset.

"Of course? I'm not that fickle. Cas or-or Jimmy, we will help you figure it out." He stepped around the the other side of the bed, pulling up a chair and reaching inside the bag to empty it. "I didn't really know what you might want so I brought a selection. Urrr, no beer sandwiches though, sorry." He almost laughed to himself, though quickly sobered up when he noticed the confused expression he was receiving.

Beer… sandwiches?

Was he serious?

He pulled a face at the man.

"Please tell me I have never consumed one of them?" It sounded disgusting. Worse than disgusting. Like chewing on a wet sponge which tasted like fermented grass. Who in their right mind would put that in their mouths? Never mind their bodies.

This time, Sam's 'laugh' was a little less strained.

"No. No you didn't. You made them for me actually."

He was pretty sure his face showed his feelings on that matter, as he curled the corner of his lip up and looked up at the man with confusion.

" _You_ like them?"

Or was he trying to poison him? Perhaps that was why he had saved the phone message. It was the result of his attempt at a meal.

"No. We threw them in the bin." Sam ducked his head, his hair falling into his face. "Well almost all of them. One did end up under Dean's pillow."

He raised his eyebrow. Now that was perhaps a story he wanted to hear more of.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been ages i'm so sorry. Writing Cas as Jimmy, as not Jimmy was a hell of alot harder than i had anticipated. Writing without mentioning either name and not letting it get confusing was even harder. Hope it turned out okay. I hereby PROMISE to update again before christmas. (However if i fail dramatically i want to wish everyone a very merry christmas)


	36. Nope, you're not seeing things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :) .... So I haven't abandoned this story. Things got majorly hectic about a week after posting the last chapter and then it was just one thing after another. I won't bore anyone with the details. But i am really sorry it has taken so long to get back into.
> 
> Hopefully it flows alright from where it left off.
> 
> Major thanks to anyone who has actually clicked to continue this <3 
> 
> You are all the best.

The car was silent. Too silent. The faint, almost muffled roar of the engine being the only sound that Sam could take note of. They made a turn, a left, a right, he wasn’t really sure, the green and grey images that flashed past his eyes all merged into a single blur. 

He exhaled carefully, not needing to turn his head to know how his brother was looking at him. The softness to his eyes. The hesitant parting of his lips. The slight flick of his tongue across his teeth as he debated whether he should say something. Broach a subject neither of them wanted to talk about.

It was a routine he had become all to used to.

He heard the man forcefully swallow, as if he was trying to rid his mouth of the words he had not yet spoken. He felt it the moment his eyes turned to fully focus on him. Still he said nothing, causing Dean to curse under his breathe as he realised that they were at that point again. 

Well, too bad, he wasn’t in the mood to share.   

“You good?”

Sam kept his gaze locked on the passing trees,  his lips pressed shut, determined not to so much as glance in his brother’s direction. If he did, he would only get the urge to lay it all out there. Holding on to that never dwindling hope that Dean could find a way to make everything better again.

It was the one consistent. The one belief he had held since he was a child. He used to draw pictures of Dean as a superhero, never truly worrying about an outcome because he knew his big brother could fix anything. 

Only that wasn’t true anymore.

This was so far past his capabilities. 

It did neither of them any good to pretend otherwise.

“Sam?”

He had spent the last few days on the brink. Unable to silence the voice that was telling him that Cas was dead. That if he had just said yes, played his role like he was supposed to, then he could have prevented all of this. Kept Cas from using himself as a human sigil. Kept Adam from becoming nothing more than a puppet.

He was an older brother again now too, he was supposed to do the protecting. Instead they had lost them both and it had all been for nothing. 

_ You were always going to fail. _

He closed his eyes tight, the invisible weight that was pressing on his chest almost suffocating him.

He was used to grieving, but no one else had left him feeling like this. His mum, dad, Jess, they were all certainties. It was the not knowing that was slowly causing him to lose his grip on reality. Shaking the fragile block that was keeping Lucifer at bay.

They may have found him in the end, but Cas, wasn’t Cas.

And he did not,  **not,** want to talk about it.

Not to Dean.

Not to anyone.

“Sam?” 

How could he ever form the words to describe it all?

He didn’t remember them. 

He didn’t remember sacrificing himself for them, laughing with them. He didn’t remember anything. 

Not even him. 

He was just this lost, confused shell. A man in a bed with no identity. Not quite Cas, but not quite Jimmy either and he had no idea which of the two men he would eventually settle on being.

Hell, if he settled on either.

He could have dealt with it better if they had an answer one way or another. He was sure he could have. But they had no way of knowing and no way of explaining to the man what was happening to him.

_ How was he even supposed to talk to him now? _

How was he supposed to act with him?

How was he supposed to be the person he needed him to be, when the Cas they knew, wasn’t there any more?

“Hey!”

He blinked, startled as a hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him, forcing him out of the binds of his own mind.

He knew in that moment, that he needed to say something. Anything. He needed to reassure Dean before he decided enough was enough and pulled the car over. Because then he wouldn’t let it go. Wouldn’t be placated by simple yes’ and no’s. 

Sam couldn’t let it get to that point. 

He wasn’t ready. 

He’d never be ready for that conversation.

He closed his eyes again for a moment, trying to block his emotions out. He couldn’t let his voice crack, he couldn’t let himself drown in the uncertainty. Let Dean see how this was really affecting him.

He could do it.

He would do it. 

He had too.

“...”

Because Cas was not dead. 

He was either in that bed, or he’d lost his vessel for a while. 

That was it.

He was still an angel, even if he did not believe himself to be.

He could survive the banasing.

He could survive anything.

“...”

He would not be another one.

He would not lose anybody else to this war.

Sam forced down the lump in his throat and finally turned his attention to his brother. He was taken aback to find him fully facing him. The impala stationary. 

He had left it too late. 

He hadn’t noticed them slowing down. Wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since they had pulled into the layby. 

When did the pictures stop moving?

Dean turned the engine off, his expression saying everything he needed it to.

Sam was quiet for too long and now there was no getting out of this.

“Look man, the nurse said it’s only temporary alright? He will be fine.” He sounded so certain and if it had been a ten year old Sam sitting there instead, looking up at his awesome big brother, he would have believed it without question. But those days had long passed, he’d seen the world for what it really was, saw the limitations even hero’s succumbed to. 

He looked down. 

“Temporary for who?” Because that was the problem, that was always going to be the problem. 

_ ‘Are you my friends?’ _

He. Didn't. Know. Them.

He may never know who they were again.

Dean licked his lips, turning his attention out of the front windscreen. Wishing he could provide an answer to that. 

How the hell had their lives ended up so complicated? They used to consider demons the big guns, now they were dealing with the bloody apocalypse and his brother falling for a celestial being. 

It was like the whole world was on crack.

“It’s Cas. He’s a freakin angel man. With everything he’s done. He’s not going to let something like this get the drop on him.”

Sam shook his head, unconvinced.

“Magnus Hirschfeld died of a heart attack, Jacqueline Kennedy, of cancer. It’s not always the dramatics that finish you.”  

Hell, even Dean, a man who dedicated his every waking minute to hunting, would have been killed by a truck had their father not intervened.

“So... what? You wanna just leave, forget about whoever that is and get back to ganking the devil?” He shifted, placing one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the ignition key, preparing to just drive off into the night. If that’s how Sam wanted to play it, then he would play it. There wasn’t any way that boy could spin something, that he didn’t already know how to handle.

He raised his eyebrow… 3...2...1.

“I never said that!” 

He rolled his eyes.

“Then quit sulking.” As Sam opened his mouth to reply, anger flashing across his tight features, he held his hands up. “Hey, I’m worried about him too. Okay?  But people lose their memories all the time, hell we’ve had our fair share of blackouts. We’ve got no reason to think that that’s not Cas in there.”

Which wasn’t strictly true, but he wasn’t about to tell the guy that. Cas hadn’t been entirely certain himself what would happen if he used that sigil. It hadn’t been done before. And there wasn’t exactly a medical guide for dealing with injured angels for them to reference either. 

Still, he had a 50/50 shot of being right. 

Better than nothing.

And if he knew his brother, there would be a word document on his laptop covering just that in no time at all. 

“The dudes been through alot. That's all. He’ll be fine Sammy. ”

“You don’t know that.” Sam protested, yet the tension in his shoulders, eased ever so slightly.

It didn’t matter how old he was, his inner child only ever had one reaction to Dean’s reassuring words.

To sink in relief and listen to them.

“Yes I do. We’ll make sure of it. ” He reached out, gripping his shoulder with his right hand. “Even angels break occasionally... Especially ones who think it's a good idea to rip themselves apart.”

Sam couldn’t help the small huff that left his nose. He shook his head.  How did he do it? How did he always find a way to make him believe every word he said. Even when logic was telling them otherwise. Did all older siblings have that power? Was it something that was learnt? Or did it just come naturally? 

Would he himself eventually be able to do that with Adam?

Maybe if they had gotten the chance to know each other before all this. A chance to grow up together like he and Dean, he would have had a better shot at convincing him to stay away from the archangels.

“Pretty sure he’s the first.”

“Probably. Has the same sense of self preservation as you.” Dean smirked, causing Sam to roll his eyes and slide back further in his seat. They fell quiet for a moment, neither of them turning to look at the other.  The road ahead was empty, with not even a slight breeze blowing the leaves. As the silence stretched on, it created an eerie stillness.

Like even the world was pausing. Knowing something wasn’t quite right.

Sam shifted.

“You know he doesn’t consider himself an angel anymore.”

They’d had that conversation many times over the last few weeks. Mostly late at night when sleep was eluding him. 

“Yeah, well two for two. He’s been getting quite a lot of things wrong recently.” Dean raised his eyebrows, pointing ever so slightly with one of his thumbs to himself.

And Sam found himself unable to deny it. He had lost faith. But Cas didn’t know them like they knew each other. Didn’t know the strength they truly possessed. Even if at times things dwindled a bit.

That was something he had hoped to change.

Now, he didn’t know if he would ever get the chance.

As the doubts began to weigh back in, as if he had a direct link to his mind, so did Dean.

“He will be fine.”

He wanted to believe it, to embrace the possibility, but there was something stopping him, a voice telling him not to get his hopes up. Telling him that the man he loved was not coming back. 

That he would never again feel that gentle touch to his arm, his shoulder, his back, any of it.

That he was gone. 

_ Dead. _

Blown apart trying to protect them.

How was it fair?

“And  if it's not him, then we'll find him.”

Sam nodded, his teeth grinding together, trying to block out the voice telling him that it would be too late, that even if they did manage to save him, that the connection they shared would never be the same again.

_ ‘You're not going to win this.’ _

“But I’m tellin ya now.” Dean continued, oblivious. “ He will be back to painting your toenails by the end of the week…. Sooner, if we put you in a pair of scrubs and you go offer up a sponge bath.” He winked. The solemn expression on Sam’s face quickly vanished and a slight pink tinge appeared in its place. Yeah, this was still totally weird. “Hey. A re enactment to jog his memory may be exactly what he needs.”

“What are you…” It took Sam a minute to cotton on to what he was talking about.

Dean could pinpoint the exact moment he did. 

“Oh yeah… Bobby talks.” He replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

The corners  of Sam’s lips curled upwards. “There were no scrubs.” He mumbled as his ears burned, for once glad he had not tucked his hair behind them. He didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to him.

Dean however, didn’t need to see them, to know what was happening. 

That came from years of practise.

“No but if you attempt that on a patient without them, then you’ll end up spending the night in the slammer.” 

He reached over, ruffling the much taller man’s hair. When Sam good naturedly tried to shove him away, he gave himself a mental pat on the back, for a job well done. No one could ever accuse him of not knowing exactly how to handle his little brother.

When Sam eventually managed to push him off, he turned back to the wheel and switched the ignition on. 

“Try not to worry. We’ll get him back.” He paused, debating with himself over whether to say his next words or not. “ I promise.”

Sam face softened, the little voice in his head, failing to convince him otherwise. It seemed it didn’t matter how old he got. Those words would never stop meaning something to him. 

\-----------

If there was only going to be one thing the man in the hospital bed discovered that day, it would have to be that he could listen to Sam talk for hours. He didn’t know if there was something about his voice that intrigued him, or if he was just better at telling stories than Dean. Either way, he found he couldn’t divert his attention away from the man for even a second. Listening intently as he told him about the first time they met- It was halloween and he was an angel. Apparently they got off to a bad start. Given what happened when he first walked into his hospital room, that did not come as  as much of a surprise as it perhaps should have. In fact he was starting to think, Sam was just the type of person that other people took a while to warm up too.

It didn’t take him long however, to somewhat earn his trust. It was his eyes, he decided, they held a kindness to them. A kindness he hadn’t yet seen in any of the staff that were treating him. Not that he was saying they weren’t perfectly nice, because they were… but there was just something different about Sam. Something which just told him he had every right to be a bastard but that he simply wasn’t.

Everything from his size, to his job, to his scars, told the story of a fighter, a man who had seen horrors, who had done things that would make normal people cower in his mere presence. If his eyes, were just an inch harder, a fraction darker, he could make a grown man wet himself with just a look.

But they weren’t. 

They were warm, bright, almost swirling in a goodness he couldn’t quite work out. It was rather  mesmerizing. He spent longer than was perhaps acceptable, just looking into them, trying to decipher the wave of colours which were hidden there. Trying to decipher the stories they held.

“Have I got something on my face?”

He blinked.

What?

“You're staring.” 

He cleared his throat.

“Urrr… sorry.”

Sam flashed him a smile and he was pretty sure he felt his cheeks heat up in response.

_ He hadn’t meant to _ . 

He wondered if it was something Cas often did, or if this was unique to the ‘new’ him. Sam certainly didn’t give any indication one way or another. He was fairly certain though, no matter who he was, he would never be able to ignore the urge to see them for long.

Sam told him about him tricking a Bobby into thinking his house was haunted next. Then about him getting drunk and Cas having to help him into bed.  (And yes, that was the night when the voicemail was left.) He wished he could remember that. Remember his own reaction. It must have meant something for him to keep it all this time. For him to rush around straight after, just to make sure the younger Winchester slept.

_ Did he watch him then too? _

He blinked, because yeah, that wasn’t a creepy thought at all?

He may not be certain about a lot of things, but that definitely verged on stalkerish behaviour.

Still, if he was aware of it… what was the harm?

He told him about them watching the northern lights together and him getting sick, about how Cas had saved his life. About them breaking a whole wash room and having to leg it out of a hotel.  He seemed to be rather hazy on the details of that one. He supposed it was because an FBI agent couldn’t be known for random acts of vandalism. 

He must have said some variation of that out loud because Sam soon replied;

“Urr yeah, umm we're actually not. We just needed the nurses to let us in outside of visiting hours.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly at the admission, before running his fingers through his hair.

It looked soft.

The man wouldn’t have minded having a feel of it himself.

With that thought, his fingers subconsciously made their way to his own hair. Unlike Sam’s, it was dry, probably still caked in some of his blood and road grime. While the nurses took care of getting the obvious out, he was sure Sam could have done a much better job. 

Each story they went through, gave him just a few more hints on the type of person Sam was.

Which was also kind of reassuring of the type of friends he could pick.

Even if he only picked two. 

“... and you were just...” Sam trailed off. His eyes suddenly becoming slightly more clouded as he glanced down to his hands.

He narrowed his eyes, not altogether too sure about what they were talking about. He had been paying more attention to the way Sam licked his lips just then, than to the actual words that were leaving them. He frowned when he finally came to notice the younger man’s expression. 

He looked like he had just been punched in the gut.

That whatever he had been saying, had hurt him somehow.

“Sam…”

Had he noticed his staring again? Had it upset him?

“I’m sorry but visiting hours are long over. You really must leave now.” 

He narrowed his eyes, shooting a look that could kill over to the nurse who had just walked in. She was always spoiling something.

He didn’t want Sam to leave.

He hadn’t heard him laugh properly yet and he still had questions, so many questions.

“But-” He started, but Sam standing up cut him off. He looked back to him, his forehead loosening.

_ Oh. _

He wanted to go.

His shoulders deflated, though he could not for the life of him explain why.

Disappointment?

“No. It’s okay. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Sam’s head was dropped now and he was refusing to look him in the eye.

His frown deepened.

What had happened there?

What had he missed?

Would Cas have missed it?

Would Cas know how to make him feel better? Know how to make him stay longer?

“Is there anything you want me to bring?” His voice sounded guarded, strained. Like it had done when he had first come in with his partner… brother.  

He shook his head.

Fighting down the urge to say ‘just you.’

As the man pulled his coat on, he tried desperately to work out what had gone wrong.

He hadn’t said anything for a while. Was that it? Was it because he had been quiet for too long? Had that insulted him somehow?

He didn’t know the rules.

He made a mental note to pay more attention to Sam’s words in the future.

He couldn’t have this happening again.

“Honey?” He looked up, his heart skipping a beat. “For urr… the tea…” Sam continued even more awkwardly than before. 

_ Oh right _ , he had mentioned their beverages were lacking any form of sweetness.

“That would be nice.” Was all he could think to reply.

“Okay. Bye Cas.” The man paused, stopping dead in his tracks. “I mean… Jimmy...Cas… I-” Sam’s face looked like it was about to break. The expression he had worn earlier slipping away completely.

That was all it took. He closed his eyes, shutting Sam out for a moment. The terminal on his face...It pained him to see it, more so than he could ever have been prepared himself for.

For that one afternoon, he had almost forgotten.

Forgotten that, he might not have been the person Sam was talking about in his stories.

That he might not be the person this man considered a friend.

And seemingly, Sam himself had forgotten it too.

“Sam…”

He didn’t know how to make it better. How to put the smile back on his face.

All he knew was he really wanted to.

His heart tugged, a rock forming in his throat.

He went to reach out, but the man shook his head, and somehow he knew he wanted to tell him it was okay, but couldn’t quite manage it himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He repeated instead, turning  swiftly to make his way out of the room. 

He nodded as he watched him go. When he could not longer see him, he leant back against the wall and let out a frustrated growl. His thists thumping against the old mattress.

This wasn’t fair.

Why the hell could he not remember?

\----------------------

_ He saw him approaching before Sam did. A tall man, probably just as tall as his friend. His hair almost white, his eyes an assortment of yellow. It was only as he stepped closer did he realise it was a literal fire burning beneath them. The man, with his body barely a silhouette, reached a hand out for Sam, his attention locked over his shoulder, on him. _

_ He tried to shout out a warning, but no sound came out. _

_ He heard something behind him and turned in time to see Dean. _

_ But the expression on his face was not that of the man he met. _

_ He seemed larger somehow. _

_ A power radiating of him, he did not understand. _

_ Large wings protruding from his back. _

_ He tilted his head, and more faces appeared. _

_ “He’s mine.”  _

_ He spun back around as Sam screamed, the fingers, curling around his shoulder blade, digging into the skin.  _

_ He tried to run, tried to get closer, to push him off him. _

_ His legs wouldn’t respond. _

_ “Sam!!”  _

_ He tried again and again, all the while thinking just one thing. _

_ He was running out of time. _

\------------------------

He sat up with a jolt, gasping for breath, his legs started moving almost without him realising, finally responding to his demands. He lost his balance and hurtled forward off the bed onto his hands, ending up on all fours on the floor.

He ignored the sounds of the machine as the instrument on his finger was tugged off. Clenching his fists all the more tightly together.

He couldn’t breathe, and Sam was in danger.

He sucked in a breath and forced it back out again, his whole body practically heaving as the whites of his eyes shone through. The wound on his chest burned at the sudden movement. His muscles, unused to such quick action, cramping up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, the lines on his face contracting as he bit down on his front teeth, trying to work through the pain that was seizing him. 

An alarm went off as the heart monitor flat lined, but he found himself almost expecting to hear voices through the noise. He forced his eyes open, turning his head back to listen to it. His ears felt like they were bleeding, his nerve endings all reacting, trying to decipher the code. 

He shook his head. That was impossible. Even he knew that was impossible. 

A blurr of scrubs rushed in, a trolley of some sort being rolled across the pristine floors. He flinched as the squeak joined the other frequency. He screwed his face up tight as he glanced to various parts of the room. Trying to make sense of it all.

He knew it was a sound he was once familiar with, one that used to bring comfort, but now struck him with fear.

A hand pressed to his shoulder, trying to guide him back into a sitting position at the very least.

He complied, just,regaining some form of self control as his attention slid back to the machine. 

It was trying to tell him something.

He knew it was.

Was it a warning? A message?

Why weren’t the sounds making sense? They should make sense? He was a-

He was yanked to his feet, maneuvered until he was back in the bed. He collapsed against the pillows as hands touched him all over him, making it hard to think. He didn’t know what they wanted, but he wanted them gone.

They were all talking, shouting, to him and each other.

He felt the clip start to close around his finger and immediately pulled it away.

“No. I must hear.”

Somewhere inside his head, he heard a voice, Sam’s voice telling him to stop, that he had to shut up, now. He shook his head, refusing to listen to it, pulling his hand away from them again as they tried for a second time to reattach him. He kicked out at the pressure on his legs.

Maybe if he was closer?

Fingers gripped at him tighter.

“Stop! Leave me. Don’t you people understand. I must listen.” 

He couldn’t explain it, any more than he could explain the urgency of his dream.  But there was something, something he had to know, something the world was trying to tell him. 

The tone got louder and the rest of the noises of the room fizzled out, became nothing but a haze to him.

Still, despite this he couldn’t work it out.

_ Why couldn’t he understand it? And why were these people trying to stop him? _

He needed to get to Sam, to Dean. To warn them. To delay the inevitable. 

“Get off me.”

He fought against the hands for a moment more, maybe two, pushing and shoving back against them. He heard someone fall to the ground, taking the trolley with them. Saw someone give up and reach over to the machine.

“No.”

The second the sound stopped. So did he. His whole body freezing as if it was only just becoming aware of what it was doing.

He glanced to the man he had knocked to the floor, he was getting up now. A trail of blood dripping down his face. It wasn’t straight though, it was like a snake, the skin beneath it cracking, bubbling.

No one else seemed to notice.

He went to reach out, wanting to get a closer look, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

He recognised that shape, he was sure of it.

Someone was suddenly in the way pushing him to lay down flat on the bed. 

“Get phyc.”

He closed his eyes.

The fight leaving him and regret already sinking in. 

\-----------------------

  
  



	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

_It was cold and dark, the only thing visible was his own baited breathe. His body was riddled with goosebumps, each tiny hair sticking up on end, as if they were wanting to shield him from what was to come._

_‘You should know by now. You’ll never rid yourself of me for long.’_

_He turned at the sound of the voice, his stomach lurching, his fingers curling into tight fists. He span on his heels. His chest rising and falling faster than what his lungs could keep up with._

_‘There’s nothing you can do to stop this.’_

_He lashed out. Throwing his arms and legs blindly into the air, one after the other. Hoping one would land a hit._

_No, no he had sorted this. Stopped this._

_He tried again, almost tripping over his own two feet. His actions becoming desperate, his training long forgotten._

_A shiver ran down his spine as warm breath trickled across the back of his neck. A presence, already far far too close, now just millimeters away from touching him._

_He froze._

_Wanting to scream._

_Numbness spreading through him like wild fire._

_Without warning his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. His hands scraping against the rough surface._

_The figure, loomed over him. Smiling, in what could almost be mistaken for sympathy._

_‘There is no fighting this, you were made for me Sam.’_

\---------------

Sam bolted up, a thick line of sweat dripping from his brow. He yanked at his T-shirt, pulling the soaked material off of his skin. He tried to keep his breathing quiet, forcing his ragged breaths into a slower rhythm than what his body required.

Why hadn’t he been able to force him out?

Why hadn’t he even considered trying?

“I thought you had this under control.”  

He closed his eyes, muttering things that would turn the air blue, before glancing to where his brother sat. Of course he had woken him. Their beds were too close together for him to have not.

“That it had gotten better?!”

_So had he!_

“Not now Dean.” Was about all he managed to rasp, his fingers grasping at the bed sheets, clutching them tight.

Dean shook his head, pushing himself up off of the old mattress. Sam recoiled the second he turned to face him, his posture rigid, a sharp metallic taste dancing across his tongue. Logically he knew it was just Dean in front of him, but his mind still saw someone else. Another figure hidden in the shadows. Reaching for him. Determined to take him.

He twitched, his eyes squinting, as if he was expecting some sort of blow to follow.

Dean swallowed hard.

 _It's the nightmare._ He had to keep on repeating to himself. It wasn’t a reflection on him.

 _His little brother wasn’t scared of him_.

He lowered his shoulders all the same, trying to appear as less of a threat to the man’s confused mind.  When that failed to make a difference , he stepped out of Sam’s line of sight, pushing his own hurt aside. This wasn’t about his pride right now.

Moments later, Sam could hear the rusty squeak of an old tap being turned, the trickle of water hitting glass. He never had had the heart to tell Dean that a drink never really did much for him, when it was the only help the man could offer.

He grabbed at the wet material again, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor.

A cold shiver ran through his body.

There really was no escape. Lucifer, was right. He would always find a way of getting to him.

He took the glass when it was offered, keeping his gaze firmly away from his brother’s eyes.

They both tried to ignore the way his hand shook.

\-----------------

The first thing he became aware of, was that he couldn't move his arms. In an instant his eyes snapped open, wide, darting around like that of a caged animal. The room was hazy and he felt like he was floating, like his mind had been pumped full of stifled air.

He lifted his head and a wave of dizziness crashed over him. Black spots dancing around his vision.

He fell back, fighting against the urge to empty the contents of his stomach as the ceiling shifted in and out of focus. The most horrible smell of bleach and disinfectant swirling up his nose.

He tried again to sit up, twisting his body awkwardly, but it produced the same result.

His chest tightened.

His heart thumping away against his already battered ribcage.

He tried to kick out, but found his legs wouldn’t move either.

His nostrils flared.

The whites of his eyes shining through.

He jolted his arms, trying to force them to obey him, shook his head, curved his spine, rolled his shoulders. His actions becoming more and more desperate.  Uncontrolled. He arched his back, finding that his hips were the only things left unbound.

His toes curled, his fingers digging into the bed with such force the frame creeked.

He needed to get up. Needed to get away. Needed his freedom.

His eyes rolled back, but it just made him want to fight harder. A jingling sound of metal hitting metal joining the annoying beeps of the machines. He grunted, and growled, jolting his knees up and down, disturbing the blankets he lay beneath.

_This was ridiculous._

He twisted and turned the best he could. Pulling at the bounds so hard his arms shook from the strain.

The bleeps gathered pace.

The sounds leaving his mouth became louder, more aggravated.

He was hot, too hot, he needed his arms free, he needed to remove every piece of fabric from his body.

Still no one came.

He tried harder, moved quicker, barely registering the sting as he stretched his stitches.

Nothing seemed to work.

His wrists ached and his shirt suddenly felt very wet. A new, rustic smell hitting him, almost making him want to throw up all over again.

He threw himself back against the pillows in defeat. His chest heaving, the room spinning.

_What the hell was going on?_

He closed his eyes and sucked in a careful amount of air, trying to calm himself down. Trying to keep the nausea at bay.

_What was happening to him?_

The last thing he remembered was waking from that horrific dream and now he was bound to a bed.

_Right. Because he had hit someone and that wasn’t allowed._

He hissed out an array of curses that would have made Dean proud.

He had been confused. Surely that should have earnt him a free pass? Strapping him to a bed seemed a little extreme. The guy had barely bled...

He froze. A flash of that man’s face almost taking his breath away.

The shape of the almost black blood trail as he stood back up. The sneer his lips twisted ever so briefly into. The way his skin cracked and then fused itself back together again.

He watched him fall in almost slow motion. Watched as the man’s wrist became disjointed at an odd angle as he landed. Watched, as it then simply snapped back into place. He hadn't registered seeing that at the time, but now he could recall it as clear as day.

He could recall it all.

_And by God, that wasn’t normal._

_That wasn’t even human._

He frowned, desperately trying to rationalise it all.  There had to be a simple explanation. There just had to be. The alternative didn’t bare thinking about.

He was on drugs. He had a nightmare or maybe it was all just some weird hallucination.

Stories from eons ago tricking his very mind.

Yeah that had to be it.

_Right?_

He gulped, his eyes shifting from one side to the other.

_Wrong!_

He could feel the blood flow rushing through him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins.

And he was still way to hot, in fact his limbs felt like they were on fire. His chest, like someone was crushing it.

He banged his head on the stiff pillow. Once, twice, a third time, wanting nothing more than to knock himself out. If he was unconscious he wouldn’t have to think. Wouldn’t have to feel. Wouldn’t have to live with what his mind was trying to tell him. What his mind thought he saw.

_A monster_

A cold blooded monster.

As the door to his room creaked open, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t real.

There wasn’t a monster in the hospital, and it most definitely wasn’t after him.

He could hear footsteps approaching from the left. The heavy heel of a shoe, tapping forcefully against the floor.

“Hello Castiel.”

His eyes snapped open.

No one in the hospital had called him by that name before. Only the Winchesters. And even they spoke in hushed tones.

He slowly glanced to the side and almost instantly wished he hadn’t.

There, looking down on him, were a pair of black, soulless eyes.

_Oh God have mercy._

\---------

Sam sighed exasperatedly, only just resisting the urge to elbow his brother in the stomach.

“It’s not funny Dean.”

Dean flashed him a toothy grin in response.

“No, it’s frickin hilarious.” He replied, despite the smile not quite reaching his eyes. He rested his hands on the edge of the bedpost and leant forwards to get a closer look at the offending objects; Leather, buckled, chained to the bed but not the angel. That was a good start. It meant it should be easy enough to remove them.

He snorted to himself, not that under entirely different circumstances Sam would want him too. In fact he was sure his brother would rather enjoy the angel sprawled out like that.

Tied to a bed.

His every fantasy coming true…

He flinched. The elbow jolted into him harder than he anticipated, faster than he was prepared for. His face scrunched up and he let out an ‘ohhfff’ his hand reaching over to cover his aching ribs.

“Ow!” He gestured, flinging his hand out. _What the hell was that for?_

Sam folded his arms, glaring at him at of the corner of his eyes. He didn't have to be psychic to know exactly where the man’s train of thought was going. Especially as he had said something similar moments after they had gotten that phone call.

_Asshole._

Dean winked, the corners of his lips tugging upwards once again.

_Hey, he didn’t hear him denying it._

“That’s easy for you to say. This material is horribly uncomfortable.” The man interrupted, his forehead creasing at their interaction but choosing not to say anything. He tried once again to pull at his bounds. Hoping his voice didn’t falter as much to them as it did to his own ears.  He forced his expression to remain as neutral as possible. Wanting to sound like what they expected him too. Like his whole world hadn’t just been blown apart.

_‘You do something for me, and you get out of here alive.’_

He shuddered and pulled at them harder. Knowing it was pointless but wanting the pain which came from the growing bruises.

Pain meant it was happening, that it was real.

That he hadn’t just completely lost the plot.

He ceased his movement however when Sam’s large hands came and covered his own.

“Hey, it's okay, we’re going to get you out of here.”

He relaxed slightly and nodded. Yes, they had promised that. The second they arrived, (when Dean was done laughing of course) they had announced their intentions to ‘spring him’ from the place.

Which was good.

Which was what he wanted.

To get as far, far away from this building as possible.

Even if that meant staying in a motel with two virtual strangers.

He paused when the tone of Sam’s voice finally settled with him. His head tilting to one side as he studied him curiously. He was quieter than usual. Only by a few decimals, it wouldn’t have been noticeable at all if his finely tuned ears weren’t already on high alert. His movements as well seemed off, sluggish, and his eyes definitely held less of a light to them than before.

Had the demon paid him a visit too?

 _No,_ he decided almost instantly.  He didn’t look anywhere near as uneasy as he felt.

It was something else. But what?

Was he still upset about how their last interaction ended?

He wasn’t sure how he could fix that.

An apologie maybe?

Dean cleared his throat. “Incomining.”

He glanced towards the older Winchester, who was now busying himself with what he knew to be a fake interview pad. A pen, scribbling across the white sheet in a series of uncontrolled swirls. His eyes discreetly glued to his watch.  The man dropped the pretence as soon as a passing nurse disappeared from sight.

He turned his attention back to Sam. Who had been nodding, as if they were in the middle of some deep conversation.

He couldn’t help but draw his eyebrows together in suspicion.

_What were they doing?_

“Three minutes, 52.”

Sam nodded again, this time with more purpose, his previous, stone like expression melting away.

The one that was left however, concerned him greatly.

_‘It's really quite simple. You mean a lot to the Winchesters… whereas right now they mean nothing to you.’_

“Are you alright Sam?” He asked, breathing out slowly. Shaking away the memory as quickly as it came.

The demon’s statement had been chilling enough to him at the time, but now, with both brothers in the room, he felt the unease even more. He wanted to deny it, but wasn’t sure he could. What kind of person did that make him? They had shown him nothing but kindness, kept coming back when they were under no obligation to. Surely that counted for something?

“Mmhmm? Of course. I’m fine.” His face morphed into another mask, one he was certain was meant to reassure, but it had the opposite effect on him.

_Liar._

He looked drained. Like perhaps he should be the one laying in a hospital bed. He was far too pale too. His eyes red, verging on bloodshot. The lines in his face, cracked, like cold air had dried wet skin far too often.

“You don't look it.”

Two pairs of eyes were instantly on him.

_Perhaps that was too blunt?_

Surprisingly it earned him a small smile from the much taller man. A hint of amusement fleetingly crossing his features.

“Oh you’re Cas alright.” Dean snorted, making his way over to the door and peering out the small glass window. When he deemed it safe, he slowly closed the blinds. Sam however shook his head, a hissed ‘Dean’ leaving his lips.

“We don’t know that.” He replied when his brother turned to him questionably, trying to keep his voice low enough to go unheard by the man in the bed. He failed spectacularly.

That time, he did feel the sting in his chest, but it felt somewhat different than the one his wounds usually provided. Deeper. Like he’d just been stabbed right in the centre. The knife twisting, chipping away tiny pieces of his heart.

_‘And soon enough, you’ll mean nothing to them either. They’re only interested in you because of who they think you are... What happens when they realise that person’s not coming back? ’_

He looked down, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

“We should hurry. We don't have much time.”

He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying ‘yes,’. From showing the Winchesters just how eager he was to get the binds off his wrists and get the hell out of this building.

_Hell._

_Oh God,_

_Hell was real too._

Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

Even if he left, there was no reason to think they couldn’t still track him down. Tear his flesh off one piece at a time. Carve even more words into his skin.

His breathing hitched and his sweat covered hands clenched into fists. He was somewhat relieved Sam had already unplugged that cursed machine. It already felt like a certain something was preparing to beat itself out of his chest. Do the demons’ job for them. The last thing he needed was the brothers hearing just how panicked he really was.

He glanced down to where the newly dressed bandages lay, bile rising up his throat.

Did Cas, or Jimmy, already know all about this?

Was that why he’d been used as a human cutting board?

He inhaled sharply, his shoulders tensing. The hot liquid pooling at the back of his mouth. Threatening to spew.

Was he some pawn in the devil's game?

Or worse one of them?

His eyes dashed around the room. Desperately trying to make sense of everything he had learnt. Pins trailed their way across his forehead, making everything feel that much heavier.  

What did all this mean for him?

Was he working for the demons? Had he killed people? Tortured them?

Were these men even really his friends?

“Yeah yeah, get your boyfriend, I’ve got the corridor.”

 _Oh god, Oh god, oh… Wait_ . _What?_

_What did he just say?_

His eyes shot from one brother to the other, narrowed and questioning.

That couldn’t be right?

Surely?

He must have misheard… because he could have sworn he just said…

Sam slammed his hand down on the bedside cabinet, the sound ringing out through the room,  his eyes almost aflame as he mouthed what looked suspiciously like ‘I’ll kill you.’ to his brother.

Oh.

Perhaps he had heard right...

The younger man completely avoided his gaze, reaching gingerly towards the cuffs as Dean slipped out of the room, mentally giving himself a pat on the back for that one. He was not going through that damn dance with them again.

He barely registered the door closing however, his attention never leaving Sam’s ever pinking face, even when the material on one arm went slack and the boy maneuvered himself around to start undoing the other.

_‘You’re nothing but a pet to them. Something to occupy their time.’_

_‘That’s, that’s not true.’ He didn’t want it to be true._

_‘Isn't it?… Don’t tell me you haven't been wondering what they’re hiding from you…’_

He thought back to the look of devastation on Sam’s face when he realised he didn’t know him. Thought back to the stories he had told him and imagined themselves as a couple instead. And-

_Ah_

_Okay._

_Yeah._

That actually made a lot of sense.

You didn't go and see the northern lights alone with your buddy.

Perhaps it too, explained why he felt so drawn to the oversized stranger. He wondered how long he and Cas’ had been dating for? How deep into this he was?

Did he love him?

Or was he already betraying him?

He swallowed a few times. Trying to fight off the urge to be physically sick. He moved his free arm into his lap and briefly twisted the covers between his fingers. That action alone made him wince, the wound on his chest unforgiving of his previous stunts.  He turned his attention towards it, fighting against the desire to rip the dressings off and dig his nails into the already damaged skin. To scratch and scrape at it. To turn it into something else, anything else. So he wouldn't have to live with the sigil as a scar.

He couldn’t go through with it though.

Sam for one, would more than likely stop him.

Realising it was taking the man longer to undo the second buckle, he glanced back towards him. His chest tightening when he noticed his hands were visibly shaking.

The bags under his eyes looked bigger from this angle as well.  Deeper. Harsher and so very out of place.

_‘You don’t even have to hurt him.’_

He shifted uncomfortably and shook his head.

This really wasn’t fair on him.

On any of them.

“Have you not been sleeping?” He wasn’t sure why he asked that. But the desire to know was almost overpowering.  He reached for his chest, scratching  at the bandage to prevent himself from reaching out to Sam instead. He probably wouldn’t have welcomed the touch. It was cruel to give him false hope when he might not have been the man he loved.

“Not really.” Sam admitted with a shrug, his hands stilling enough to enable him to remove the final clasp. As if his voice alone calmed him. “But that’s not important right now. I’m dealing with it.”

He wasn’t sure if the smile he received was meant to look that fake. Or if he was just expecting it too. But he instantly felt something erupting inside of him at the sight of it. A growing fire that appeared from deep within him and crawled up his very being. Consuming him. Suffocating him.

He shouldn’t have to deal with it!

He shouldn’t have to deal with any of it!

“It’s just nightmares and stuff you know.” Sam continued, seemingly oblivious as he made his way to the straps on the man’s feet. “Stress is making them worse. I guess. Or maybe I’m just not as strong as we all thought.”

He wasn’t sure why he was that honest.

But he could never lie to Cas’ face.

And whoever this was, was wearing it.

“Don’t you ever say that!”

Sam jumped, his hands stilling, his eyes shooting across to look at the other man. He’d sat up straight, quicker than a speeding bullet and was now staring at him. His eyebrows drawn together, his lips tight, a fierce determination lighting up his eyes. His fists were clenched tightly either side of him. His nails quite possibly digging deeply into his skin. “Don’t you ever even think that again.”

He could do nothing but nod; frozen, stunned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find words, but none coming.

_Where had that come from?_

“Cas?” He nearly whispered, the sound of his own heartbeat pulsing through his eardrums. A warmth pooling around his stomach, rising, filling his mind with endless possibilities. Because that was him, that was the angel he knew. Right there, right in front of him. He wasn’t lost, he was in there all along. Why hadn’t he realised it before now?

As quickly as the look appeared, it went again, and the man almost seemed to withdraw. His shoulders slumping forward slightly.

His hand reached for his chest again and he rubbed at it. The skin pinching.

He had never felt anger like that before.

It was raw, powerful and filled with need, rather than aggression.

He had to change Sam’s mind. He had to get him to understand. To see himself as he did.

Needed the boy to not just hear his words, but believe in them. Believe in the strength he possessed. The brightness to his very soul.

He blinked, straightening up once again and stared right into Sam’s ever changing eyes. A voice in his mind, a whisper in the wind, a scream louder than any sound a man could produce, all saying the same thing. That he had to get to through to him. That he couldn’t let his beautiful spirit be taken away.

“You are strength Sam.”

He was colour in the dark. Warmth in the cold. A light in this crumbling world.

“You may not feel like it, but if you’ve made it this far, then... you... can make it further.”

He looked away. Wincing, a ringing in his ears turning into a high pitched whistle. Irritating his every sense. Again, it was trying to speak to him, trying to tell something. It got stronger, pounding away, filling every space, every tiny gap inside his skull. His head started to spin, his mind vibrating, the noise echoing, trying to reach so far inside of him he thought he may just combust.

Without warning he cried out, his hands coming up to clutch at either side of his head. His fingers gripping the back of his hair. Desperately trying to do something to pull the sounds away.

It was too much, too much pressure.

_And it hurt._

“CAS!” Sam was by his side in an instant. Gripping hold of his shoulders. Whether it was in a show of support or fear, he wasn’t sure.

His skin tingled as hands traveled to his wrists, a firm amount of pressure holding them still.

He thought of taking hold of them, of squeezing them back. Of taking what was being offered.

The perfect way to ground himself. A reassurance that he was still in that room. Where a trench coat hung from a hook on his right. A glass window hidden by vertical blinds on his left. A bed under his butt, a dim light above his head. The most important person, stood firmly by his side.

The screeching however, seemed to have other ideas.

It wouldn’t let him move a muscle. It would barely let him breathe.

His chest throbbed in a way he had never experienced before.

And oh God _._

_Who the hell had set it alight?_

“Make it stop.”

Sam’s hold on him tightened. His eyes shooting to the door, willing Dean to notice, to come back in and help.

“I don't know how. What’s happening?”

He stood up, his touch slipping away as he contemplated reaching for the nurses call button. Screw the plan, the guy still needed medical help.

_NO!_

No, he couldn’t leave, he didn’t want him to leave. He was the one thing that made everything bearable.

He reached out, grasping hold of Sam’s retreating palm. As if a firm handshake would solve everything.  The edges of his vision blurred as Sam turned his attention back to him in a panic.

He blinked again and the clothes his friend was wearing shifted. A stone coloured jacket morphing into the place of his red shirt. His hair shortening by an inch or too. His face losing its fear and being replaced with awe.

_Its an honor, really, I’ve heard alot about you._

He reached up with his other hand, suddenly having the desire to use both of his to cover Sam’s completely.

_And I you, Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood._

He dropped his hold as if he had been stung. The pain in his chest vanishing as the walls slammed up. Cutting the memory clean off.

“Hey, hey, hey, Are you alright? Cas, talk to me”

He wanted to shake his head, to reassure him, to move away, to jump out of a window. He wasn’t sure. All four sounded like equally good options. Instead of reacting however, he just stared at him, his mouth slightly parted, his expression blank.

Sam reached out to him again but this time he flinched away, leaning back, needing to put some distance between them.

_A demon._

Just like the one who had threatened him.

Hurt flashed across Sam’s face. His hand paused in mid air.  He immediately wanted to apologize, but couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.

What did this mean?

Was it all just some sort of sick twisted game?

He saw him move, backing away, his hands held up placatingly. Like he was trying to show him that he meant no harm.

How could he ever believe that now? Knowing what he had running through his veins?

_‘All you’ve got to do is get him to do one little thing....’_

He looked up and for the second time in 24 hours, wished he hadn’t.  Sam was focusing on freeing his legs, but his adam's apple was moving and his jaw was clenched. His cheeks had bunched up, making his eyes appear smaller, harder to read. But he couldn’t miss the obvious throbbing that was happening behind them.

He’d hurt him?

Since when did monsters have feelings?

He moved his leg as it became free, wanting to rub away the ache which settled there. The blinds had apparently been too tight and blood was now rushing to where it had previously been denied. It was a welcome distraction.

“If you don’t want me to touch you, I won't. I’m -I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

He sounded tired. Resigned. Like the weight of the world was crashing down on his shoulders and he was drowning in it. Touch was apparently something they did a lot. But how could he accept it now, knowing what he knew.

Knowing what he really was?

His feelings towards him had come grinding to a halt, with words that had left his own lips. Words he barely remembered saying.

He thought back to his face when he had shouted. Briefly lit, filled with a newfound hope. Only with one single involuntary movement, he had taken that away again. Crushed him as badly as when they had first met.

“...Sam.”

How could he bare to say his name?

How could he still want to reassure someone who should repulse him?

“No, it's okay. Really. Lets just focus on getting out of here.”

He wanted to nod. Wanted to put it all on the backburner, concentrate on gaining his freedom and worry about who, _or what_ , he was later. Except he couldn’t do it. His body almost paralysed with thoughts. Doubts. Fears.

What would happen to him if he walked out that door with this man?

Was he better off taking up the demon's offer and running for the hills?

Better off as far away from the Winchesters as possible?

His breathing became heavier, the desire to run almost consuming him.

How did you even get someone to say yes to something you didn’t understand?

Because he didn’t, he didn’t understand any of it. This man was infinitely gentle, he had believed in the light he brought, the strength he carried, the kindness he was made out of. But was it all just a manipulation? A lie meant to trick him in someway. To steal his soul? To make him a slave to the devil?

He tried to gasp in air, his eyes bulging. Little air pockets floating around inside his skull, making him dizzy.

It was too much, all of this was too much!

 All of a sudden Sam was there. Crouching on the floor in front of him. His hands resting on the bed, near him, but not on him.

“Woah, easy. It's okay.”

How could he say that? He was trapped, with no memory, in a hospital. An actual living demon threatening to make him wish for death, and potentially another one trying to lure him in with compassion.  

"You're hyperventilating. Slow down.'

He wanted out, he wanted answers, he wanted none of his to ever have happened.

“Breathe with me, in and out.”

He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to do anything with him. He wanted to be safe.

But he wasn’t safe.

He may never be safe again.

“You're going to be fine.”

Would he? He didn’t feel like he would be. He felt out of his depth. Like he was stood in an empty desert surrounded by an army of hungry lions.

“Hey! Come on man. Look at me.”

His tone was hard, authoritative and for some reason, he found himself obeying it. He was built to obey. His father expected him to obey.

He looked into his eyes and frowned.

They didn’t match the voice?

They were soft, understanding, almost begging him to be alright?

“You can trust me.”

There was no blackness there, no emptiness, no parasitic intent. Just what he’d always seen. Affection, gentleness, raw pain. He felt for him.

This man, with evil running through him, wanted to help him?

How could that even be possible?

How was any of this possible?

“Cas...”

He wasn’t asking him to follow an order. He wasn’t pushing him to accept something he didn’t want. He was just there. Wanting to be whatever he needed him to be.

No agender, no game.

"...You've got this."

He exhaled slowly, copying the in and out motions Sam was exaggerating. Watching his hand rise up between them and fall again, in a delicate, calming rhythm. His fingers almost dancing in the air.

“We’ll fix this. Together.”

Their eyes were locked. They're breathing in perfect sync and despite everything, he found himself nodding. Everything else in the room fading away until it was just him and Sam. 

"I promise. You're going to be okay."

He closed his eyes.

And just like that, he felt the tension leaving him. The words ringing in his ears, pouring through his pores, soothing the panic in the way only a loved one could.

Before he could second guess himself, he reached out, threading his fingers over Sam’s. Word failing him, but wanting to show him exactly how he felt. The smile he received in return was enough to melt even the hardest of hearts and he couldn't believe he ever had the audacity to doubt him.

“Okay.” He rasped, tightening his hold on the man’s hand. A small smile tugging at his lips in response to Sam’s growing one.

Whatever that memory meant, he had interpreted it wrong, this man wasn’t a monster.

He could never be a monster. 

He was a lion tamer.

_‘We don't care how you do it, just get it done.’_

_‘Just get him to say yes.’_

And he, was totally screwed _._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES THE MUSE IS BACK.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Oklahoma Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290193) by [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal)




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